Living Twice
by Gilbert's Left Arm
Summary: /AKA: The adventures of two dorky guys and one who is equally dorky but turns into a girl half the time/ - Yata Misaki: lover and worst enemy of Fushimi Saruhiko… all at once. Although he doesn't know about both halves, considering one is a girl. God help Yata if he ever found out (he doesn't cross-dress either, It's more of a curse). AU, rated for language and sexual references
1. Chapter 1

For those people who are expecting _Secret_ to be uploaded (as it's winning in the poll): that's being done as soon as this is posted – give it a few days or so c:

Others: Welcome to this new fic! I started it a while ago for a friend. She burst into form on a Monday morning with 'the most amazing idea ever', and it turned into what you're about to read. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Misaki gave a small groan, slowly trying to prise the beanie from her tangled hair. Her nails were still bleeding and sore and after pulling the stupid hat off; she welcomed dipping her fingers into the cold water of her bathroom sink. She peeled her shirt off and winced, hating the tight feeling around her chest that she always got when the night approached, only this time she hadn't seen it coming; she'd forgot to check her phone for the sunset time again. And it didn't help that she had been indoors – it was unbelievably embarrassing to leave Kamamoto and Totsuka so suddenly.

After drying her fingers her nightly routine still continued. With a heavy sigh she trudged back into her bedroom, opened the wardrobe on the left and pulled out the first draw. Nauseatingly feminine underwear greeted her and she raked through them half-heartedly, trying to recall her bra size. Even after so long, she couldn't remember. All the stuff she had in here was stolen, of course. What would happen if she was seen during the day browsing the lingerie section of one of those ridiculously big clothes shops? She'd be kicked out for being a pervert, probably.

So subtly grabbing whatever she could find off washing lines was the best she could do.

Eventually she found one that wasn't _too _suggestive - and (after some awkward checking) in her size, it seemed. Holding it up in front of her, her frown fell further. She _hated_ putting these things on. She always needed a mirror to see behind her, and the hooks always got caught on her hair. The one in her room was still smashed from last week, so she grabbed the rest of her clothes, headed to the bathroom again and looked, almost reluctantly, into the mirror hanging on the white-tiled wall. She met the familiar-yet-not heart shaped face that she had been forced to grow used to.

Not much had changed in terms of her features – her eyes still remained a golden-orangey-brown and her hair a darker shade of that – but Misaki's appearance was softer and more delicate, which irked her to no end whenever she saw herself. She was still noticeably pale, but it usually settled down quickly.

She grunted as she slipped out of her shorts; they had become way too big for her and caught around her ankles when she was tugging them off. She replaced them with a black miniskirt and changed her short white socks for longer darker ones. Boots were her choice of footwear for the night: halfway up her calf and silver blouse to match. Fiddling through the box under the sink that contained her make-up and jewellery, she put on a ruby necklace and earrings. The crimson lipstick she chose was a new one that had been given to her by the person she was wearing it to see. She applied a layer and checked her watch as she braided a small part of her hair. She frowned. It had taken her half an hour to get ready? Why did that always happen? Even when she wasn't going out, she still needed to swap clothes every damn evening, which meant her wardrobe was twice as large _and_ twice as expensive as the average person's.

Misaki yawned and stretched before picking up her purse. She hated all of this.

But she loved _him_. _He_ was the reason why she even bothered to put in effort.

She was expected in ten minutes; she needed to move fast. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she gradually left the suburbs behind, seeing more and more people as she went. Some of the men whistled and called out to her when they caught sight of her figure. She shivered, trying to ignore them and also regretting only bringing a light jacket. The temperature was slowly dropping and she soon began to look forward to her meal, knowing for sure that he would have remembered she liked tables inside.

The main square of the city was as busy as ever and she paused under a screen when her phone buzzed, quickly checking it.

It was who she had expected it to be. And he had texted her his location.

_-It was so easy to find you. Turn around.-_

She felt a grin spreading on her face as she saw him.

He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into a warm embrace, sheltering her body from the cold evening, and burying his head into her neck. She replied first with a soft sigh, welcoming his greeting. "Nice to see you, Clumps-kun."

He laughed as he broke away. "Still hanging onto that nickname, Misaki-chan? My name is Saruhiko."

"That just makes you sound like a monkey."

"I'm not a monkey!"

"Yes, you are." She quickly took his hand in hers and used the other to push some hair behind her ear. "Where are you taking me tonight?"

He grinned, "you'll see."

The restaurant wasn't too far away, and it was surprisingly quiet considering the time of day, but Misaki decided she preferred that.

Their conversation during dinner wasn't anything unusual; it had been a week since she had last seen him and they had that much time's worth of catching up to do. Saruhiko told her about where his new apartment was and how he had a job interview lined up for early next month. She nodded and listened all the way through, just enjoying the sound of his voice. Even when he was talking about casual things like this she felt like she could just sit and listen to him forever, one of the many clichés she knew she was falling for. He was just so… so _wonderful_. The way he would sit there and smile pleasantly, his face free of any signs of worry even in more difficult times. Saruhiko would always stay on the positive side around her and made her feel as comfortable as possible.

His hair was dyed a shade of shadowy blue and styled in clumps at the front (for lack of a better description), hence the nickname. It was had been the first thing she had noticed about him on the evening they had met each other. Today, he was wearing his black-rimmed glasses over his dark azure eyes and his clothes were fairly smart; he, like usual, work a blue jacket and waistcoat, matched with…

"Is it a yes, then?" Saruhiko asked.

Misaki blinked and put down her chopsticks, "what?"

His smile faltered slightly, "you… weren't listening to me?"

She stared at him blankly, a blush becoming increasingly visible on her face.

There was silence until he laughed softly "don't worry, it's fine. I was asking if you wanted to go to the zoo with me tomorrow, Misaki-chan."

"Tomorrow? As in, during the day?"

He looked confused. "Well, it closes at five, so… yes."

She bit her lip and looked down at her half-eaten meal. "I don't think I can make it then… we could do something in the evening?" she winced when his expression hadn't changed, "I mean, if you want, we can-"

"Misaki-chan," he said bluntly.

"Yes?"

"There's something that's bothering me."

His words made her outwardly flinch with surprise. His tone of voice had fallen to a serious one, the complete opposite to how he was talking just moments before. She knew the question that would most likely come next.

"Why… haven't I ever seen you during the day before?"

She groaned inwardly, clenching her fists which were settled in her lap. It had been so long since they'd starting dating and he'd never mentioned that fact once. She hadn't even bothered to prepare an answer in advance. Her eyes flicked around the room for a few seconds, first to the ceiling, then to the floor as she was trying to think of an answer that sounded realistic.

"Well… things keep coming up, I suppose."

Saruhiko jerked forward and his hands were on her shoulders, his face inches from hers. It held a thoughtful expression and she suddenly didn't want to meet his eyes.

"You're not… with someone else, are you?"

_That_ was surprising. She held her hands up in defense. "No! Of course not… I'm just…" she trailed off and then went silent. The room was virtually empty now and the only sound apart from movement in the kitchen was their breathing, and then a soft sigh from Saruhiko's lips. A few of the staff members were staring at them from the open office.

"It's fine. Sorry. I was just a bit concerned, that's all. As long as no one's hurting you, that's fine."

It was sad that half of her suddenly had to suppress a small giggle, and she tried her best to keep the same expression as he let go of her and sat back down.

"There's that aquarium that's open till late," he suggested, "want to go? I've heard there's a new baby shark been brought there."

"If you like," she smiled, relieved.

"Great. Let's finish our dinner, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Clumps-kun."

* * *

He curled his fingers through locks of her hair, his other hand resting on her lower back with nowhere else to go, pulling her up so that their lips were almost touching. The moon was high in the sky, but the stars that were sprinkled around it were engulfed by the neon city lights. The calm silence of the night was drowned out by cars and buses that flew past them along the busy roads. A chill of the air wrapped around her legs and arms but she refused to react. People walked past them, most drunk from a long evening in the bars. A couple shouted at them to get a room, or a simple, slurred, "just fuck already". They were easily ignored and eventually Saruhiko's free hand found his way into hers and he closed the gap between them in a long-awaited kiss. It was gentle and unsurprisingly tasted like the meal they'd just had. It wasn't hungry or greedy or rough. It was just a _kiss_. There was no other way to describe it and the feeling of his mouth on hers lingered long after he pulled away. Someone whistled in the distance.

Saruhiko snorted, holding back a laugh. "Maybe we should have found somewhere else more private."

"Don't worry about it," she replied quietly, then yawning shortly after.

"You're tired, Misaki-chan," he planted a butterfly kiss on her forehead, "you should get some sleep now."

She nodded and stretched, feeling her limbs finally beginning to ache from the day. "I will, definitely." Misaki released her grip on his hand and began to walk away after exchanging a goodnight with him.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home?" he called.

She shook her head. "I'll be alright, thanks. Text you soon, Clumps-kun."

"Yeah, text you soon."

She watched him turn and walk the opposite direction to her, disappearing from view with his hands in his pockets down another street. She sighed quietly and felt the cold settle into her skin again without his hold to shield her and began to trudge back home at a decent speed to try and keep herself warm.

Misaki took the same route back, except there were less people leaning against walls and staring at her in the eerie yellow lamppost-light. For some reason, that made her feel more uncomfortable. She wasn't at her strongest right now – anyone could just jump out the bushes and hurt her and she wouldn't be able to defend herself very well. She ran her nails down her arms and wondered regretfully if she should have let Saruhiko walk her home… but then he would have seen where she lived, and that would have lead to a very difficult conversation she didn't want to have to deal with.

Her footsteps echoed on the street, one of the only noises contributing to the night's soundscape. A nocturnal bird called in the distance, and the rumbling of cars in the city was becoming quieter and quieter as she made her way deeper into the suburbs. She could hear _and _see her own breath, escaping from her mouth in a translucent cloud that dispersed into the night air.

Her phone buzzed and she visibly jumped before removing it from her purse. Unlocking it, Misaki tried to keep moving while using it. She was expected a text maybe from Saruhiko, but that was not the case.

-_Hey, Yata-san. I had to tell Totsuka-san after you left so quickly earlier because he wouldn't leave me alone after he figured I knew where you went. Sorry. Can I bring him over to your place sometime? He wants to see.-_

She scowled in annoyance. It was inevitable, she supposed; she could have gone without a second person knowing for a while longer. The more people knew, the harder it was to keep a secret under control, after all. But Tatara Totsuka was a reasonable guy, albeit a little chatty and annoying, he was one of Misaki's best friends and she supposed it was only fair for him to find out. Yet, a frown had become set into her face and she already began to worry about the events that would now happen tomorrow.

-_That's fine, I guess. Come tomorrow morning while it's still dark.-_

She sent the text to Kamamoto and shoved the phone into her purse again, wondering how she'd let this play out. She'd be making breakfast for three now, which meant stopping at the 24-hour supermarket on the way home. She turned a corner she wouldn't usually take and cut across a small green towards the shop. There was a bark and some scuffling some way to her right. She glanced over. It seemed that, even at this hour, people walked their dogs.

By the time she'd stepped through the door and nodded to the man behind the counter, Misaki had already decided what she was going to cook for them. Tomorrow was a Saturday so she'd prepare something traditional. She picked some nori up and grabbed some salmon to serve with it, as well as some rice because she was running low herself.

"What brings you out shopping so late, Misaki-chan? I mean, you only ever come in the evening, but it's gone eleven o'clock."

She shrugged. She knew the shopkeeper well because it was always his shift when she came and he often asked how she was.

"I just forgot to stock up on a few things," she smiled pleasantly as she handed over some bank notes, "I have friends over tomorrow and I need to do a bit of cooking."

"Oh, a little gathering, is it?" he opened the cash register to get her change, "is your brother going?"

Misaki frowned, raising an eyebrow at him. "My brother…?"

"He looks just like you," the man shrugged, not catching on to her expression, "what's his name?"

She was silent for a moment, considering what the shopkeeper had said. She understood perfectly what he had meant, but… how to answer?

"Yeah. He's my brother," she replied as she picked up the shopping bag with her purchases, her limbs protesting with the weight, "his name is Yata and he visits me a lot."

"Oh, well introduce me sometime. He'll need somewhere to buy his energy drinks, or whatever youth seemed to drink nowdays."

"Come on," she laughed, covering up her worries easily, "you're not _that_ old."

"Well, this thinning grey hair says otherwise," he nodded to her, "see you next time, Misaki-chan."

She gave a small wave before stepping out the door, "see you."

The more she walked, the more tired she grew. Her feet jarred on the pavement with every step and she didn't know why – it was late, sure, but Misaki felt more exhausted than usual. She put it down to the late afternoon's rushed events and then hurrying almost straight out afterwards to see Saruhiko. She yawned again and rubbed her eyes with her left hand. All she could think about was sleep.

* * *

No matter what time she went to bed the night before, Misaki always had to be awake early.

She was greeted by a blaring alarm, a purple cushion in her face and her blanket wrapped awkwardly around her body. She groaned to herself and slid her arm off of her bed. She felt with her eyes closed for the table and switched off the source of the noise, then reached for her phone. Reluctantly sitting up, she checked the time. The sun was going to rise in half an hour and her body was already aching in response. Or it could have been left over from the night before. A thin layer of sweat had formed on her skin and she wiped her arm across her forehead.

It was the same thing every time.

Misaki stayed where she was, tangled amongst her bed sheets with her pyjama top hanging off one shoulder. The birds were starting to sing, another reminder of the coming dawn. Kamamoto would be brining Totsuka in ten minutes.

She finally decided to move and she fumbled with her clothes, replacing her underwear for something larger and less…showy. She disregarded the bra completely because she knew it wouldn't have use for much longer. She put on some baggy green knee-length shorts and a loose-fitting white jumper over a bigger tank top. Her teeth had been brushed and her face cleared of any remaining make-up just as the sound of the doorbell echoed its melancholy tune through her apartment.

Wiping her face with a towel, she headed down the hallway and to the front door.

"Coming," she called out.

Two figures were hazily visible as shadows through the glass and she hesitated for a second when they moved, obviously noticing her. It would be the first time Totsuka would see her… how she was at the moment. Hell, even Kamamoto wasn't used to it and he'd known for over a year now.

Her fingers curled around the handle and Misaki pushed the door open, leaving only her head showing – and not just to avoid the blast of icy air she'd let into the house. Her hair hung loosely downwards and she saw Kamamoto smile awkwardly, but the warmth was still there.

"Yata-san," his voice, after all this time, still wavered slightly, "how are you feeling?"

"Ok, I guess." She heard Totsuka gasp in reaction to the sound of her voice and frowned, "And it's Misaki right now, Rikio-san."

"Sorry. I forgot."

She forced herself to relax, stepping out from behind the door. The smaller's eyes widened even further to reflect his evident shock. Misaki smiled carefully. "You should come in," she muttered, "it's cold outside."

The two males took their shoes off as they went inside and she could feel their gazes on her back. She unconsciously pulled down her jumper further and slid her hands, balled into fists, inside the sleeves. They turned in to the living room and continued to stare as they sat down across the table from her. She fixated her eyes on her knees and tried desperately to think of something to break the silence.

"I…I'm going to make breakfast for you guys in a while," she glanced for a second up at Kamamoto, "I know you like salmon, Rikio-san, so I bought some. But, I wasn't sure about Totsuka-san, though…" she fell silent.

The larger man opened his mouth to speak, but Totsuka interrupted before he could even begin.

"Yata-san, that's really you, isn't it? You're a… girl…"

"Yeah, I've sorta noticed that, thanks," a pain shot through her stomach. "Although," she confessed, "not for much longer."

He was still gawking at her. "So everything Rikio-san told me was true, then? You're a… girl… at night, and a… guy during the day. He said it was a… a-"

"a curse," she wanted to finish it for him, albeit she did it a little quietly.

He looked confused. "Like… magic? Who did it?"

"I have no idea," she admitted, "I don't remember anything from the night it-" she suddenly stopped, letting out a small whimper as her body tensed painfully.

Both Rikio and Totsuka immediately reached for her.

"Ya-Misaki?" Kamamoto asked hurriedly, "do you need anything?"

"Just…take me over… to… lie down," her breathing was getting heavy and she was thankful that at least one of her friends had had to deal with her like this before. She welcomed his arms around her and vaguely registered him telling Totsuka to unroll a futon for her and get a wet towel.

He settled her down and closed her eyes for a second. She felt the towel on her forehead and smiled slightly.

"Thanks… guys."

They were crouching down either side of her and the younger was leaning forward worriedly. "You have to go through all this by yourself?"

"Yeah… every day and… every evening. Rikio-san's helped once… or twice." She groaned and grit her teeth.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Of course it does, idiot," Kamamoto replied for her, "think about what's happening in there."

A new expression dawned on Totsuka's face and his jaw fell open slightly.

"Now's not the… time for perverted conversations, guys."

The smaller blushed, "no… that's not what- Yata-san!" he suddenly shouted when Misaki cried out and was about to grab her, but Kamamoto stopped him.

"She's fine… I think. Don't worry. It won't last much longer."

They sat there for another few minutes until Rikio got up and grabbed something before coming back over again.

Totsuka eyed the scissors he now had worriedly. "What… are those for?"

"You'll see… look, she… uh… or he… is calming down now."

The flush had gone from Yata's face and he slowly sat up, his body protesting, and rested a hand on his head.

"Do you feel alright?" the younger spoke up first.

Yata grunted, "fine. Pass me the scissors, Rikio-san"

Totsuka jumped at his lower voice, and then looked with cautious curiosity when Yata held the blades up to his hair.

"You're cutting your hair?" he exclaimed.

"It's not going to get shorter any other way. I'm a guy; I don't like my hair halfway down my back… I need to do my nails too, actually."

"And it grows back every evening?"

Yata nodded, looking in the mirror hanging on the wall opposite him. He cut it into a familiar scruffy shape and then reached for the nail clipper on the TV cabinet.

"So," he sighed, exhausted before the day had even properly begun, "how about I get breakfast on?"

* * *

Kamamoto and Totsuka had left a few hours after they had eaten (remembering to leave compliments to the chef), and with nothing else to do, Yata found himself skateboarding down to the city again, with his hands in his pockets and headphones around his neck quietly playing music he wasn't bothered with. His wheels bumped over the cracks in the pavement and he glanced into the 24-hour shop window as he rolled past. It wasn't that man's shift at the moment – there was a women he didn't recognise standing behind the counter.

It was a day warmer than yesterday and he pushed his sleeves up to stop himself from getting too hot. Spring really was unpredictable where he lived. But cities were always hotter because everything and everyone was crowded into a small space, and not forgetting the fumes coming out of cars that made the air heavier. Yata yawned as he skated into the square. He needed something to do and that recommendation of the zoo the night before seemed like a good place to start…

"Yata."

It was Fushimi's voice, the one he had heard so many times before. Except, the sun was firmly positioned high in the sky, shining down and reflecting off the glass of the buildings almost mockingly, as if to emphasise the situation.

"it's been a few days since I've seen your arse around here."

Yata grunted in reply. All the care in his words had gone and the smaller jumped off his skateboard in reaction, coming to a stop with the man he had kissed barely twelve hours ago standing behind him. "Only because you like looking at it, _Clumps-kun_."

He felt a shove and then Fushimi seized his shoulders, whipping him round so they were facing each other.

"Don't call me that. Where'd you even get that name from, anyway?"

He responded with a smirk and a nonchalant shrug. "That girl. I see her with you a lot. She your bitch or something? Really, I never knew you had it in you."

Yata's collar was grabbed. An immediate reaction like he was hoping for. Their faces were inches away now, the taller practically breathing down his neck. Even as a boy, his feelings for Fushimi held the same strength and he didn't know why.

"You bastard – don't speak about Misaki-chan like that," he growled, "or I'll kill you."

"But if I wasn't alive, who would you spend your time harassing? Most of your day's all about making mine miserable, right?"

Fushimi clicked his tongue in annoyance and bit back a probably foul-mouthed reply to think of something else. But before he could, Yata carried on. "It's sad, really, that you have nothing else to do. You haven't got a job, your house is a shit hole… I've never seen you with a car, either. Public transport, is it?"

He tightened his grip on Yata's shirt and narrowed his eyes to tiny, vicious slits. "Again, how do you know all that stuff about me?"

He was ignored. "Now that I think about it…" the smaller trailed off for effect, stroking his chin as if he _was_ actually thinking, "where is your 'girlfriend' anyway? Where's Misaki? Surely, if you love her _that much_, you'd know where she is? If she's safe?"

Fushimi, once again, couldn't answer; he instead held Yata's gaze with the same infuriated expression his face had contained since he had first made the remark about Misaki.

"Why don't you call her? Ask her what she's doing?"

The glare continued until the taller let go and fiddled around with his mobile.

Yata, as discreetly as possible, reached to turn his own off. He knew he really should have had two phones, but that was impossible to afford when he had to buy twice as much of everything else.

He felt it vibrate in response to the power-off command as he watched Fushimi bring his phone up to his ear. He heard a bleep and the speaker was loud enough so that he could make out the message. It was Misaki's voice – _his_ voice.

-_Hey! Sorry, I can't pick up the phone right now – I'm a little busy with a few things. Try calling me later! Leave a message if you like.-_

Fushimi gave a dejected sigh and looked over at him, his teeth gritted.

Yata was thankful he'd recorded that message that morning. The only people who ever called him were Kamamoto and Totsuka, so he didn't need to worry about the fact that he could only create just one.

"Misaki-chan, it's Saruhiko." Yata flinched, surprised that he was leaving something after all, "I was just checking on you, because you said you had stuff on today and I wanted to know if you were having fun with whatever you're doing. I'll call you this evening? Love you…"

He pressed the 'hang up' button and put his phone away.

The smaller absentmindedly took a step back. Even though he didn't realise it, Fushimi had been talking to him, talking in the same way that he did when he was Misaki.

"Well," he tried to distract himself by making another poke and keeping his personalities further apart, "she doesn't even want to talk you! Some 'girlfriend'! Can't even be bothered to keep her phone on for you. See you around, _Clumps-kun_."

With that, Yata jumped on his skateboard without waiting for a reaction and hurried away from the one he loved, unable to stop a small tear slip down his face.

* * *

Did you like that? The next chapter should be up soon, and any suggestions for Misaki and Saruhiko's dates are welcome c:

_**End note 1**__ Misaki's nickname for Saruhiko – 'Clumps-kun'. It has a long background and is the butt of many inside jokes, but, long story short, it's to do with his hair compared to Munakata Reisi's. How else would one tell them apart when the series only had a few episodes out and nobody had an idea of what was going on? I decided to use it purely just because I wanted to, and also because it helps with the storyline. Anyone could figure out 'Saru' because of his name. 'Clumps-kun' is more affectionate and therefore gives Yata an advantage._

_**End note 2**__ What colour even is Fushimi's hair? Right now, based on a poll amongst my friends, I'm going with dark blue. If you can tell me otherwise, PLEASE do. I want to get it right, but the wonderful colours and sparkles in [K] don't always help._

_**End not 3 **__So, final thing… honorifics or no? I want your opinion. If you don't like, I'll happily remove them._


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter two is finally here, everyone! Sorry for such a long wait – I was occupied with other things and, even when I sat down to write this, it seemed to take ages. Ah, well, it's here now. I do hope you enjoy it~_

**Fliggy**: Just practicin' hurdles, Clumps.

**Taz: **Here's what happens next~

**Guest: **I'm glad you liked it! :D thanks for your review~~~

**DeidaraUlquiorra: **ooo I like that idea. I might use it! And for the big reveal, I have it alllllll planned out. And Fushimi doesn't know that Yata's first name is Misaki, or the other way around… yet…

**Call Me Tom:** whatalovelylongreviewomgthankyou All your questions will be answered… patience, young one.

* * *

"Yata-chan!" Totsuka called (with his newly-adapted nickname) from one of the isles, "what about this one?"

Hearing the blonde, Yata's face jerked up and he slung the top he was holding over his arm. He pushed past a woman next to him who was holding the same thing in a larger size and then battled his way through other over-excited females, who were also currently engaged in the dangerous act of shopping at a 90% everything-must-go sale. Kamamoto was attempting to struggle through behind him to get himself through the crowd of people. He was lugging Yata's chosen pair of skinny jeans over his left shoulder, his larger body dwarfing them.

They followed their youngest friend's voice and eventually located him by a collection of dresses on display. He was holding one up in the air, angled towards them, as they got there, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

Yata's head titled to one side, eyeing the outfit carefully as he approached. From Misaki's point of view, it was absolutely _gorgeous_ – a softly gradient blue colour with pastel lace trimmings at the hem and straps. Ruffles got increasingly bigger and flowed outwards down the dress, giving a light and weightless appearance. A look of curiosity grew on his face.

"What size is it?" he reached out and ran the fabric through his fingers, surprised at how soft it felt on his skin. It would go _flawlessly_ with the white boots he had back at home.

"Yours," Totsuka's expression was that of accomplishment as he replied.

Yata looked down at his own body, which was a little bigger than his female counterpart's. It would probably come to just above Misaki's knees, maybe a little higher. If he loved it, Saruhiko would, too.

"It's perfect," Yata couldn't keep the smile off of his lips. He turned to Kamamoto, "what do you think, Rikio-san?"

The bigger man also had part of the dress in his fingers, except said part was made of paper. "…I _think_ the price tag is very big," he raised his eyebrows at the numbers.

"Price? Where? Let's see."

Several women turned in their direction when they heard Yata's yell.

"And this is in the _sale_?" he asked in disbelief, glancing worriedly at Totsuka.

"Yep! Glad I found it, huh?"

The look of shock wouldn't leave his face.

"Can you even afford this, Yata-san?" Kamamoto questioned sceptically, "what would you even need it for, anyway?"

"Well," he shrugged, "Misaki needs… new clothes."

"I'd figured that – it's why we're here," he replied, "but clothes that cost as much as this? You could buy tons of cheaper stuff for over half this price, Yata-san."

"But I like it, though," he pulled out his wallet and counted the notes inside, "and I have just enough. Come on, let's go and pay for this thing before some crazy lady grabs it. I've spent my time in sales before and, compared to them, this one is quiet."

As they walked (battled) to the counter, Yata couldn't help but notice the stares they were getting. When it was just him shopping, no one really gave him a second glance. They could make the assumption that he was just picking something up for a girl, or was perhaps just a cross-dresser . But three guys and one seriously expensive dress? That was a bit out of the ordinary, at least.

The cashier seemed to share the same opinion. She gave him a weird look when he passed it over the counter, along with the few tops and skirts he had picked up that he could afford.

Yata couldn't help but wince when she read out the price (rather loudly, as well – loud enough for the queue behind to become interested) and he quickly handed over the money.

"Who're you buying this for, then?" the inevitable question came.

Yata glanced back at his friends for support, but they didn't really provide any (intentionally or not). Totsuka did smile and pat his back, though. Kamamoto laughed.

He was blushing profusely when he answered, "my… my girlfriend. It's her birthday soon, and I wanted to get her… something special."

The dress was neatly folded and tucked in a bag along with everything else.

"It's very special indeed," the cashier replied, "one of our most expensive items on sale at the moment."

"…Yeah," he grabbed the bag and started to struggle back to the shop entrance, "thanks."

"Where to next, Yata-chan?" Totsuka asked as they walked out of the shop.

"Well…we have pretty much everything… except…" he looked down at what he'd bought, before pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket. All but one item on there had a line through it, he realised, when he saw what the final thing was… "shit…"

"What's wrong?" that was Kamamoto.

"I…Misaki needs to get underwear."

* * *

"Well, that was interesting," Kamamoto said, putting his hands behind his head.

Totsuka watched Yata as they walked; watching him hastily shoved mismatched underwear into his shopping bags. He was trying desperately not to let the two blondes see what he had got (stolen) for the sake of Misaki's decency.

"What's the time?" he asked to keep his 'new' lingerie off the position of subject title.

"About half past two," Rikio held up his phone.

Yata nodded, "that means I have about…"

"Three hours and seventeen minutes until the sun sets," Totsuka finished, then grinned when Yata gave him a surprised look. "Kamamoto-san and I want to help you, Yata-chan. We can't exactly know what you're going through on a personal level, but," he put his hand on the smaller's shoulder, "we want to help as best we can."

Rikio smiled too, showing that he felt the same way.

"Guys…" Yata looked up at them, realising only now their height differences, "I don't know what to say, I-"

"How about we just go back to the shopping centre and get something to drink?" Totsuka grinned, "we haven't been to HOMRA for a while – Izumo-san's probably thinking that we're dead or something."

"Sure," he replied slowly, still a bit dumbfounded.

"Oh, and," Totsuka handed to him a large plastic bag, "I picked this up for you while you were… getting your… underwear." He pointed to the shopping bags Yata was carrying, adorned with bright pink logos and floral designs, "I don't think you really want to be seen with those right now, do you?"

"Oh, thanks, Totsuka-sa-" his eyes widened and he instinctively darted behind Kamamoto. The larger man flinched at his sudden action and looked back at him in confusion.

"Yata-san, what are you do-"

"Shhh!"

The smaller stood on his tiptoes, peeking over one of Rikio's shoulders.

He was right – it was Fushimi. He had walked over to sit on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square, alone. Some shopping was beside him, and he was calmly opening a sandwich to check the contents (probably to see that there were no vegetables, Yata supposed). The blue haired man hadn't noticed them, thank God, but there was a possibility he could –they weren't very far away. It wasn't like he didn't see him regularly anyway, but with all this shopping that Misaki was supposed to be wearing?

After taking a bite and chewing for a while, Fushimi put his late lunch down and swallowed, before crossing his legs absently and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

By now, Rikio and Tatara had seemed to work out who their friend was focused on. Kamamoto frowned when Yata reached for his own phone to turn it off, but grabbed it when it started ringing.

"Clumps…kun," Totsuka craned his neck to see as he read out the name.

"Shut up!" he waved his arms and snatched it back, checking to see if Fushimi had heard.

He hadn't – he still had the phone to his ear, a solemn look on his face.

Yata bit his lip. If he turned it off now, it would come up on Fushimi's phone as an ignored call. Which would have obvious results that evening.

He gritted his teeth, turning down the volume and waited anxiously for it to go to answering machine.

_Aww, _a sigh, _Misaki-chan, can't you get to your phone again? Well, I'll meet you by the usual bus stop at half six this evening, alright? Ok…_

Fushimi hung up and continued to eat his food, oblivious to the situation next to him.

"How does he know Misaki?" Totsuka asked, his voice a loud whisper.

"And what's more," Kamamoto added, "why are you meeting him later?"

Yata grumbled, looking intently at the floor while grabbing both their arms. He slung his shopping over his shoulder and, with his head down, tugged them back into the shopping centre.

* * *

"You have a _boyfriend_?" Kamamoto stared at him, eyes wide with a look not unlike horror on his face. Totsuka sat next to him, mouth hung open and noodles trailing down his jaw.

Yata nodded, taking a sip of his water. "Well, technically, Misaki does. Yata is currently single and staying that way."

"Who is it?" Totsuka blurted out. Though he was surprised, the blonde leaned forward eagerly.

Yata knew exactly what Rikio's reaction would be, and that was exactly why he had also tried to avoid this moment. But, here he was, at the back of HOMRA bar sharing a massive bowl of soba with the only two people who he trusted with his secret. Soft music was playing in the background, only to be mixed with the quiet buzz of his headphones that he couldn't be bothered to turn off. Kusanagi Izumo was behind his counter at the front, polishing wine glasses as per usual.

"Well…" he muttered, feeling a blush beginning to spread on his face, "it's…"

"Yes?" he leaned closer and Yata pulled his head back. He glanced towards Kamamoto, who had his arms crossed and was raising an eyebrow expectantly, a slight smirk on his face.

"It's Saruhiko…Fushimi."

They both choked louder the second time.

"_Fushimi_?" Rikio's voice echoed around the whole bar and Izumo, hearing his exclaimation out of context, gave him an odd look, "Yata-san, are you shitting me? Isn't that the dick that ditched HOMRA and shoves you around all the time? The one who was sitting on the fountain earlier?"

"Don't worry," Yata replied, "he's oblivious to the similarities. I make sure of that. He hates Yata, and loves Misaki. Simple."

"Don't treat this like it's a game!"

"I'm not!"

"You have to be careful where you're treading, Yata-chan," Totsuka interjected after finally regaining the ability to speak. "He might find out."

"I won't let him. I said I'll be fine," Yata insisted.

"But you're acting like it's nothing!" Rikio argued, "you can't just mess someone around like that. That voice message earlier… he might really…love…Misaki-chan."

The redhead's gaze immediately fell to the surface of the table, away from his friends. His teeth gritted. "Well, I might really _love_ Clumps-kun," he half-growled, his face turning a deeper shade of red for more than one reason. Yata pushed back his chair and dropped his chopsticks before standing up. He grabbed his skateboard and found himself striding away from them, out of the bar and onto the street corner. Cars flew by in front of him and the late afternoon sun beat down on his back, not too hot, but still obvious. This night was going to be warm.

There was a few seconds hesitation before Yata hopped on his board. He was about to get going, but the sound of a door opening behind him made him falter despite knowing who it was.

"Yata-san, I didn't mean it like that!" Kamamoto called to him as he ran over, the golden chains and jewellery round his neck glinting in the orange light. A large hand came to rest on Yata's shoulder and he turned round to see the larger man right behind him, red-faced and out of breath. Totsuka was catching up, forcing some last strands of soba into his mouth.

"I…we just don't think it it's a good idea, Yata-san."

The unconvinced frown hadn't left his face, but it was slowly changing into one more of unhappiness.

"You two… don't know what it feels like."

"Think about it," Totsuka took a step closer to him, "what if he decided to… take things further with you? Think about it from his point of view. What would it feel like if Yata kissed Fushimi, instead of Misaki?"

"We can tell that you're genuinely in a relationship with him," Kamamoto added, "what if you got… pregnant or something?"

"Rikio-san, I don't even know if I _can_ get pregnant. I was a guy before this curse, remember?"

"Yeah, but I'm just saying you don't want to ever be in a position where you could find out," the seriousness in his voice became increasingly evident as he spoke, "how far have you two… actually gone?"

"Kissing, and maybe touching, that stuff. All with clothes on, before you ask. Which means I haven-"

He let out a pained gasp and fell to his knees, arms wrapped around his stomach as the muscles clenched.

"Yata-chan!" Totsuka was beside him immediately, followed shortly by Kamamoto, "what's wrong? What's happening?"

"Now… it's happening… now," Yata forced out.

"What?" it took a few seconds for him to process the information, "O…oh! Rikio-san, we need to get him inside!"

"But this shouldn't be happening for another hour! And where will we take him?"

The blonde wrapped his arms under Yata's, gently pulling him up. Beads of sweat were trickling down his face, which had turned a burning red.

"It'll have to be HOMRA."

"Ah," Izumo looked up as they burst back through the bar's door, "I was just about to come running after you – Yata-san left his…" he trailed off, cigarette hanging limply from his mouth when he saw the smaller on Kamamoto's back. "What's wrong with Yata-san? He's-"

"Izumo-san," Totsuka quickly interrupted, rushing to the counter "Yata-cha…san's hurt. Have you got any place private we can take him?"

The bar's owner glanced worriedly at Yata when he groaned, before answering, "…there's Mikoto's apartment upstairs, he's out for the day on business, so I don't see why you ca-"

"Thanks! Let's go, Rikio-san," the youngest tugged on the larger man's arm, which was wrapped around Yata's knees. "No need to follow us, Izumo-san," the blonde called as he reached for a door labelled 'private', "we can deal with it."

It slammed shut.

"And don't call the hospital!"

The apartment was the same style as the bar downstairs – traditional English features with French accents on the tables and chairs. That must have been Izumo's doing.

Kamamoto set Yata down on one of the loveseats, and it was all the red-head could do not to cry out. He gritted his teeth, his toes curling as a wave of pain rolled through his body. Grunting, he shifted himself closer to Rikio, who was wiping his forehead for him with a damp towel.

The two blondes found themselves in the same position as they were that morning – kneeling down beside where he was lying, hovering over him helplessly. They tried to distract him by keeping him occupied with questions, but eventually it became too much for him and he tried his best to calmly ask them to be quiet while biting down on an old cushion.

"The ones in the evenings are worse, it seems," Totsuka observed solemnly, the only reaction to that being a small nod from a frowning Rikio and a quiet, forced, "no shit," from Yata.

"Guys?" the voice echoed from the other side of the door and everyone groaned (Yata for a different reason than the other two). Izumo _had_ decided to follow them after all.

"Stay here and watch him," Totsuka got up and patted Kamamoto on the shoulder, "you've known for longer. I'll try and get Izumo –san away."

He hurried to the door, unlocking it and opening it only enough to stick his head out – Yata was, technically directly opposite Izumo with just a panel of wood in the way.

"You left this downstairs," the man said, holding up the plastic bag, "some of it had spilt out on the floor, and…"

"Oh, all that girl stuff?" Totsuka smiled, slowly pulling it from the other's grip, "it's Yata-san's mum's. She was busy and asked us to recycle it today."

"Really? It looked pretty new…"

"I'm sure."

"How's Yata-san?"

"He's fine. Don't worry. Oh – I think I hear a customer downstairs!" he was now attempting to close the door, grinning innocently as he called things like, "wouldn't want to keep them waiting! They might be wanting to buy some of the _expensive_ wine – you'd better hurry, Izumo-san."

The lock finally clicked shut and Totsuka heard a sigh from the other side, and then some footsteps going down the stairs. He pressed his back against the door and sunk to the floor, looking over at his friends.

"Is Yata-chan ok?"

"I'm fine," the reply was quiet, "owww, that hurt…"

"Do you need help sitting up?" Kamamoto's voice was now much deeper in comparison.

"Yeah…ah… thanks, Rikio-san."

"Oh my _God_," Totsuka shot up, dropping the bag and rushing over,"Misaki-chan, there's blood all over your hands!"

She held them up, "it's just my nails, don't worry. They always catch the skin as they grow. Do you have that bowl of water?"

"Yeah," he handed it to her.

"See?" the water turned a faint pink as it washed off, "dried and healed already. I'm ok."

"Want us to leave you alone to get dressed, Misaki-chan?" Kamamoto had fetched the bag, "that dress… is for Fushimi, isn't it? We pieced it together… your… date… tonight."

She nodded slowly and took it from him before the two males stood up and headed to the kitchen.

* * *

"Sorry I'm a little late," Saruhiko's voice sounded behind her in the night air, and she turned to greet him with a smile on her face, "I'm glad you got my message – you didn't reply."

"Ah… I'm out of credit on my phone, but I just got some more… sorry, Clumps-kun."

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and sat down next to her at the bus stop, taking her hands in his and rubbing them a little.

"That's fine…" his voice faded when he caught sight of what she was wearing, "this dress, I've never seen you wear it before. Is it new?"

"I bought it today," she replied as he ran his fingers around one of the lace straps.

"It looks great on you," he breathed, and she blushed before he carried on, "I saw it on display in a shop window today, now that I remember... really pricey. Is that why you couldn't come to the zoo? You were buying this?"

Misaki nodded.

"The bus should be here in a few minutes," she said after a short silence, leaning into the crook of his neck, "I haven't been waiting long."

The aquarium was _much _busier than both of them had expected. They had waited outside in the queue for over half an hour. Not that they had minded, though. Saruhiko had shared his iPod with her and they slowly shuffled to the front, laughing quietly at jokes and both had half of a hot dog. He'd also insisted on paying for her entry ticket, as well as everything else she wanted to buy that evening, and Misaki had guessed it was because he now knew how much she had spent on a dress she had worn just for him.

"Oh God," Misaki jumped, looking down at the floor after they passed through the barriers, "the floor, Clumps-kun… it's glass. And _right above the shark tank."_

"Wha…? Woah," he instinctively grabbed onto her as one of the massive fish passed below them, its fin brushing the surface.

He jumped up and down a little to test it, flinching when she squeaked, "look how thick it is – we're fine. Let's just hurry up and get to the stairs."

The first room was full of a lot of fish she recognised and they went round to each one, snapping pictures through the glass before the tiny animals darted away from view. Every creature in this aquarium was endangered on one level or another, and the exhibits put that across strongly with talks from workers every so often.

After a few more minutes they reached a large crowd of people, and Misaki vaguely recorded that the majority of them were tourists, barging their way to the front to see a tank that was completely obscured by bodies.

She hadn't been to this place before, but she knew that Saruhiko had, "Clumps-kun, what are they all trying to see?"

"The octopus."

"An octopus? Wow…"

"Come on, let's try and get to the tank."

The glass was round and convex, and it occurred for a moment to her what the octopus saw through such an odd shape; humans must look so weird to it already…

"I can't see it!"

"Look at it from this angle, Misaki-chan," he gently tugged her to the side and lower down until she was almost under the tank. Saruhiko pointed, "there."

Tucked in the corner of the tank, the octopus sat, its tentacles curling lazily in the water. It didn't seem the slightest bit bothered about all the attention that it was getting, or, rather.

"He looks bored."

"Take a look at these ones over here, Misaki-chan," Saruhiko gently tapped her shoulder and guided her away from the octopus, covering her eyes with both his hands as they went. They seemed to be walking for a while and the noises of the tourists faded. She blinked, and suddenly pure white jellyfish were floating in a round tank centimetres away from her face. They were highlighted with a slightly purple hue as they bathed in ultraviolet light.

Almost unconsciously, she lifted her finger and followed with its tip their slow and aimless trail, watching closely as they shimmered and drifted through the water.

"Wow," she breathed, "they're beautiful, Clumps-kun." Misaki looked up only to realise that he wasn't taking notice of them at all. He was running his fingers through her hair and she locked eyes with him, his own lighting up when he saw her smile softly. Her breath hitched when his hand trailed down to cup her face and she responded by pressing herself against him, feeling the regular rise and fall of his chest. Saruhiko places his lips on the top her head and her whole body tingled with warmth when he breathed out softly and muttered into her hair.

"You're beautiful, Misaki-chan."

His words were followed by an easy kiss and she smiled into it when she felt him do the same. As per usual, he was especially gentle with her, wrapping his arms around the top half of her body, holding her like she was a delicate china doll. In the midst of it all, her thoughts gradually echoed beck to times she spent as Yata, a different person, built strongly with more muscle. Fushimi would never hold him like this.

"_He might find out."_

"_I won't let him. I said I'll be fine."_

His tongue brushed against her lips, asking for entrance into her mouth. She automatically accepted. One of his hands became entangled in her hair, keeping her close to him.

"_What if he decided to… take things further with you?"_

She knew he hadn't done anything wrong; everything they were doing, they had done before. But something was pulling her back, and, at first, she mentally shrugged it off and slid her hands onto his shoulders, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of his mouth locked on hers. A few seconds later, his arms began to make their way downwards, gliding delicately and expertly down her back until they…

"_What would it feel like if Yata kissed Fushimi?"_

Misaki pulled away. She had to stop.

Saruhiko jerked, "Misaki-chan? Was I?"

"No. I just…"

"It's fine. I'll only do what you're comfortable with."

"it's ok, Clumps-kun. That wasn't what I meant."

"Then why did you want to stop?" his voice sounded confused.

Desperately, she tried to think of an excuse to give him. A glance at a clock told her that the aquarium wasn't closing for another hour, there was no one nearby watching and she certainly couldn't say she was embarrassed because the jellyfish were watching. Saruhiko was staring at her intently, but thankfully there was no scorn in his expression. Just a fair amount of worry.

She would have so say something.

Misaki hesitated once more, then spoke, "Clumps-kun, I-"

"Fushimi Saruhiko," a low voice sounded through the exhibit, "it's a surprise to see you here."

A man with hair she could only describe as 'large' appeared round a corner. It was gelled back in spikes at all angles save for two strands that hung down in front of his face. Misaki had always thought that it resembled somewhat a mane. A very dark fuchsia mane, at least. His hands were in his leather jacket's pockets and various chains accented his dark jeans. They glinted in the lights around the room along with his earring – drawing your attention away from the cigarette he was smoking. His smoke drifted lazily around him and his demeanour was certainly relaxed, yet, surprisingly, threatening. This man, standing just a few feet away from her and Saruhiko, was someone Yata was very familiar with. That man – the 'sleeping lion', leader of the street gang he, Kamamoto and Totsuka had a place in; the 'Red King', in charge of HOMRA.

"Suoh Mikoto," Misaki heard Saruhiko say beside her, "the same goes for me to you. What would a 'great man' like you be doing at an aquarium?"

"I'm meeting someone," his jagged voice answered simply.

Saruhiko bent down to whisper in her ear, "he's my old boss."

Misaki was almost tempted to reply, telling him that she knew all about and that 'boss' wasn't really the right word. She knew his reasons for lying, never telling her about his days in HOMRA. They had been shared with Yata (albeit distantly and they barely spoke for a number of reasons). She never knew why he gradually became distant from the rest of them,though, and, eventually, left. She wanted to let him know how, unlike Fushimi, was probably expecting, his 'old boss' had actually given a damn about his departure.

Instead, she just nodded and acted oblivious and unknowing. She was Misaki. She knew nothing.

"Is he the one that fired you, then?" she whispered back.

Saruhiko nodded.

Mikoto was coming closer. Not in a threatening way, but his sheer height and the way he walked made Misaki instinctively take a step back. Saruhiko's right arm was now firmly around her shoulders, protecting her.

After starting at him for a while, the 'king's' eyes eventually fell on her, and it was making her increasingly self-conscious. Kamamoto had repeatedly pointed out how much Misaki looked like her male counterpart. When Yata had questioned why Fushimi hadn't noticed, Totsuka offered to put it down to his being 'blinded by love'. Which, minus the dramatic part, sort of made sense. Having a lover whose gender changed about every twelve hours (depending on the seasons) wasn't exactly a regular thing in society.

Suoh nodded to Saruhiko. "Are you with this guy?"

"Y-yes."

He regarded her through narrowed eyes and for a second she thought he had seen Yata in her face, but instead he asked another question.

"What's your name?"

"Misaki."

"Misaki what?"

She swallowed. She couldn't say Yata – even Saruhiko didn't know her last name (although he'd never mentioned it).

Both males were staring at her intently, and it was obvious that the one she loved was also curious as to the answer of that question. But the look on his face was also still worried, as if he could sense her awkwardness.

"Not telling."

She didn't have to answer if she didn't want to. She'd put more time into making a fake one later to give to Saruhiko.

Mikoto seemed slightly surprised at her remark, but still not very bothered. He just grunted and said something in a mumble that she couldn't hear, but Saruhiko was able to pick up on. He nodded as the 'king' walked off, cigarette smoke in his wake.

"Let's go home, Misaki-chan," he sighed, his hand snaking into hers.

* * *

_All done! See you lot soon~_


	3. Chapter 3

_I have returned from the pit of exams :0 and ready to hurry up and finish this fic! Chapter three, here we come~~~~~_

_(Also, if you like D Gray Man, I have new fic for it up today ^^)_

_**Redthorn13: **__Well, you've GOT the next chapter, now. Here you go!_

_**KelAlexshipper4evah:**__ I think everyone would like to see Yata kiss Saruhiko… *evil grin* you might get one, but it'll be after the big reveal to keep these AU babies IC_

_**DidiMag:**__ I think this update should explain some of that for you~ thanks for reviewing!_

_**Oraldisaster101: **__Aaaaaahh I love you some much for reviewing! Hope you enjoy this chapter c:_

_**Guest: **__HELLO AGAIN MY GOOGLE TRANSLATE ISN'T WORKING SORRY BUT THANK YOU :D_

_**Taz:**__ YES TAZ THE JELLYFISH AND NOW THE UNDERWEAR~_

_**Mizuouji:**__ M-m-m-MIZUOUJI? As in, LEADER OF AQUA SCANS MIZUOUJI? Thank you dear and your wonderful team for bringing us gorgeous little scans awww I'm all happy now *giggle*. It's fine, you were only a little late for the party and I still have plenty of food left, so sit back, relax and enjoy! Ahhhhhh, this is a 'T' fic, so…..we'll have to see…_

_**Call Me Tom: **__I AM STILL SO HYPER FROM MCM YOU HAVE NO IDEA ALSO LEN THANKS FOR REVIEWING DEAR YOUNG JEDI_

_If you can, please play the 'Pink Panther Theme' whilst reading the part after the first italics below… it actually fits so much oh my gosh…_

_**Living Twice, Chapter 3**_

* * *

_The boy stumbled down the alley, one hand clutching the opposite arm, as the cold breeze of the night gripped his frame mercilessly. The sound of breath was ragged and the heartbeats were at irregular intervals, sometimes fast and painfully furious, others slow and weak. Every few moments there was a pause in the uneven trail and a large, shaky gasp. It usually ended with a whimper. Dry tears stained skin and eventually the child had to stop. The jagged surface of an aged wall scraped through the kid's only shirt as his back collided with it, hard, drawing more blood as the body slid to the floor._

_Pain. There was so much pain. _

_It was really dark here, besides from a single yellow lamp. The cobblestones were rough on the ground and made no contribution to comfort, their presence made increasingly obvious when the wet surface reflected off the harsh glow. That was the only thing enabling the child to see._

_Pain._

_A shaky hand was lifted up and the kid stared at the crimson-stained palm, eyes wide and very unfocused. Something was different, very different. As to what that was, hopefully it would be easy to work out without too much trouble. There was too much pain to think much._

* * *

"Cue mysterious saxophone music!"

"Not the time, Totsuka-san."

Yata blinked, the front half of his hands sliding over the fence. His eyes came into view, too, peeking over the wooden barrier in a narrowed fashion. He clenched and unclenched his toes in his shoes out of a mix of distress and anxiety as he observed the garden. There was no car parked outside the house it belonged to, and a quick glance in the garage earlier showed more evidence that the homeowners that lived here were indeed away for the day.

The male growled softly when his gaze found what he was looking for, and he bounced up and down a bit out of agitation when the pink and purple patterns caused his face to turn an unnatural shade of red.

Kamamoto was groaning in pain, mostly likely from the heels of Yata's trainers digging into his back as the larger man supported his weight.

"Yata-chan, can you see them?" Totsuka's voice sounded again from below.

He could. But he didn't want either of them to, too.

A deep frown set on his face, the red-head pulled his jumper back up onto his shoulder and looked down at the blonde.

"Rikio-san, give me a leg up. Totsuka, bag."

"On it, Yata-chan!"

He gripped the handles brushing against his palm that Totsuka had shoved towards him, and then felt himself rising as Rikio grunted loudly from his weight (or maybe out of his lack of fitness). Yata lifted his leg over and tried to keep his balance while he adjusted himself for the jump down the other side. This fence was a high one – a fair bit taller than Kamamoto and made of the kind of wood that gave you splinters too easily. He felt some digging through his shorts and into his thigh as he twisted his body round with a quick wince.

Yata's knee scraped on the edge as he gripped the rim tightly. He bit his lip and shot a glance down and over his shoulder at the concrete below.

"Think you'll land it?" he heard the youngest's voice.

"Yeah," he paused to swallow, "easy."

With that, the red-head let go. His landing was a little awkward; his feet were a misplaced and one landed on the concrete patio instead on the planned grass. Therefore, it was also very ungraceful. Thank God no one was watching. Wincing slightly from the physical shock, he stood up, one hand on a probably bruised hip in a style that made him frown because it forced him to look like an old man. Yata trudged over to the washing line where the underwear waved around in the wind in all its glory. He cringed at the colours and reached out a tentative hand to pry the pegs off and grab the clothes. One blew off the line before he could grab it, and it collided with his face. The smell of lavender filled his nostrils and it was almost enough to suffocate him.

He couldn't resist letting out another moan.

"What's up?" The Totsuka yelled the question.

"These ones are scented with fucking flowery fabric softener, guys!" Yata shouted back, his face bright red.

"Even better! Fushimi's gonna be so happy!"

"He doesn't smell Misaki's underwear!"

"…Has he ever tried? Because I think you'll find he'll-"

"Shut up!"

The red-head glanced around, worried that there could be neighbours watching their seemingly-perverted antics from their windows by now, but, thankfully, there were none. He slowly began the process of unpegging all of the female underwear from the washing line, or enough of it that it wouldn't be noticed, and chucked the pegs into a basket he found full of them nearby. Holding one of the pieces, he eyed it in more detail. Silky… laced… would anyone _really_ miss these? And he would have to _wear_ them in few days' time? He much preferred the boxers he was current wearing, and Misaki didn't really have anything down there that would restrict size, so…

"Argh! Can't I just get some from another garden?"

He heard the sound of laughter come from the other side of the fence, _two_ types of laughter.

_Oh great, he's got Rikio-san getting fun out of this, too. I should never have brought these too idiots along…_

"Oh, quick, Yata-chan! I think they're coming back! Better hurry up!"

He could hear the lie and taunting in the other's voice, but it was enough to motivate him enough to finish his 'job'. It really was a lot of effort to break into people's back gardens and steal underwear. These types of womanly-motivated endeavours often wiped him of a lot of energy, anyway. _And _the sun was setting soon.

Yata's grand total for this small adventure was six pieces, all taken from random points on the line, and, adding on the fourteen he had collected from three other houses in this district left him with twenty lovely pieces of 'new' underwear that would hopefully be somewhat in Misaki's size and keep her going for a while. Another reason why he didn't want to do this again anytime soon was also because of Totsuka and Rikio… it was embarrassing enough himself when he did it on his own (and even more so during the times where he got caught once or twice), and just having them there made everything a hundred times worse.

The loose and uneven stone tiles on the concrete path clanked together underfoot as he got off the lawn and headed to the fence, preparing to throw the bag over before - no. It was better to make sure Totsuka _never_ got his hands on what was inside here.

With a heavy sigh, he trudged over to the gate and reached tiredly for the bolt…

…Only to find a padlock.

"Argh!"

Yata bent forward to bang his head on the hard wood and did, with a loud thump echoing around the side of the house.

"What's wrong now?"

"You never said how I was supposed to get back!"

* * *

"Smile, Misaki-chan!"

"Why do you want me to-? Oi! Don't fucking film me, not like this anyway."

Totsuka pouted, setting his video camera down on his lap after switching off the 'record' function. "Aw, Misaki-chan, it was so much nicer when you were shyer around us."

"Well," she shrugged, digging her hand into a packet of _Prawn Cocktail_ crisps, "that was a month or so ago, when you had only just found out and Rikio-san was still super awkward about it all. I can act how I usually do and how I want to as Misaki around you two, and I like that."

"Well, you don't seem to mind doing all the gushy stuff around Fushimi," the blonde argued jokingly.

"That's because I need to make sure he thinks there's a difference!"

He crawled closer to her, waving his camera in front of her face with a grin and switching it back on again. "Pleeeease," he asked, "just act like 'Misaki' would for my little video project, please?"

"And what does this 'project' entail?" she replied with a question, her mouth almost full with her snack.

"Just the usual stuff! I wanted to make a fan music video for a new song I like – all you have to do is… you know, smile, wave a little, maybe lie down on the sofa and do a little bit of modelling…"

"Modelling?" she exclaimed, spitting out half of her food.

"But you've got a really great body shape as a girl and-"

"Totsuka-san," Kamamoto sighed as he walked back into the living room, a can of cola in either hand, "stop asking Misaki-chan to do embarrassing things. You wouldn't do the same if she was Yata-san."

"Seconded," it took her a few seconds to recover, "you still treat me so differently when I'm Misaki. I'm the same person, you know."

"You're so not! You even insist on us using different names for the both of you!"

"Only to protect my identity!"

"Yeah, but…" Totsuka trailed off, spotting Kamamoto pass one of his drinks to Misaki and then open the other for himself.

"Hey!" he moaned, the small argument forgotten, "you could have grabbed me one, too."

The larger blonde nonchalantly took a slow, long sip, "you _could_ have asked for one."

"…Can I have a cola please?"

"Get it yourself," he answered, laughing at the fact that it actually worked.

Pout still remaining, Totsuka stood up and headed for the door, camera swinging in his hand as he went out of sight and his footsteps faded into the kitchen. The mutterings of him talking to himself could still be heard.

"So," Kamamoto crossed his legs, "how's the new underwear been treating you these past few days, Misaki-chan?"

"Oh please," she moaned, "can you two stop bringing it up?"

He smiled, "don't worry – I was only messing around. You're always under a lot of stress and we're trying to help. Totsuka is, too, in his own way."

She returned the grin, thinking of the antics in the recent weeks, "yeah, he is. I can't thank you guys enough for all the support you've provided me… like, you're over most mornings and evenings to help me out with the change, and you're buying me food because I have barely any time to work anymore. God, you've even offered to pay my rent, haven't you? You know I've found a way to keep my finances up – didn't I say?"

Rikio gave her a funny look, "…no, you haven't mentioned anything about that."

"I haven't? Oh… well, you see, I was in the main city a few weeks back, and-"

"Misaki-chan! Oh my _God_!" a cry from the kitchen interrupted them once again, "what is all this?"

"What's he talking about?" Kamamoto asked quickly, They were both on their feet now, hastily heading out of the room.

"It seems," she smiled, hands on her hips as she entered the room Totsuka was in, "that Totsuka-san here has discovered my main source of income."

"And what is…? Oh my God…"

The youngest of the three was hovered over a pile of three or four black sacks, one not yet tied up because it wasn't full. Misaki supposed that it wasn't odd to see such a pile in one's kitchen, but as to what was leaking out of the open one…

"This is all the hair you cut off every morning, isn't it!" Totsuka realised, a strange grin that was half nervousness and half excitement on his face, "why is it all in these sacks?"

"I sell it," she stated proudly, walking over to the open sack and gathering up the edges so that nothing would fall out, "wigmakers and hairdressers pay a lot of money for real human hair these days because it takes ages to grow and leaves people with short hair for ages… except for me, as you know."

"That is _such _a great idea! How did you even think of that?"

"Like I was saying to Rikio-san, I was in the main city a few weeks back, and I saw a notice about wigs for cancer patients in a hairdresser's window. They like to have real hair in a wig and stuff, so… I just went inside and said that I could drop some off at the end of each week for the foreseeable future."

"And they didn't even question where you got it from?" Kamamoto's voice was suspicious.

"I think that they were more grateful than suspicious. I would be anyway. I can afford to remain in this apartment and they get their wigs made of real hair. In fact, after tomorrow morning's change, I need to finish filling this bag up and drop it off."

"We'll definitely be round to help you," Totsuka promised with a beam, taking a gulp for his cola, "and…" his voice fell "I think there are also a few things I actually want to ask you."

She was surprised over his sudden change in tone and focused properly on him, her expression also becoming serious, "it's not something stupid, is it?"

Misaki didn't know why she asked that – it was blatantly obvious it wasn't. Totsuka was being _thoughtful… _and she didn't think it was fair to add a 'for once' onto the end.

"I wanted to ask you more about you and your… um, curse, Misaki-chan."

She stiffened.

"…And, yeah, I know it's a touchy subject for you, but maybe if you let us know then we could help you out with getting rid of it. Isn't that what you're trying to do?"

Her eyes fell to gaze at the floor. _Of course_ she wanted this fucking curse to go away, to stop the pain from coming every time she woke up and every time before going to sleep again. She _was_ sick of always aching throughout the day and having barely any energy left to eat dinner at the end of it. She _was_ tired of having to maintain two completely separate identities and personalities, especially around Fushimi, because…

"Clumps-kun," she whispered.

"What about Fushimi?" Totsuka bent down to stay level with her height as she slouched.

Her head went up again and she looked him in the eye, wanting to kick herself for getting so emotional over him so suddenly, but it was for a good reason. "As much I want to be back to normal again, it would mean that Misaki could never, _ever_, meet her Clumps-kun again."

* * *

"_Misaki Yata!" the child's mother's voice echoed in the hallway, staring intently and angrily at his dirty-looking clothes and marching briskly towards him, "your father and I have been worried sick about you! He's out looking for you now! Where have you been?"_

_The only reply he was able to give as she kneeled down in front of him was a quiet snuffle, using his right hand to wipe tears away. It was dark in this part of the house; he knew she was only shouting at him because she couldn't see his appearance properly. Once she saw all the blood on his body…_

_She grabbed his arm, practically pulling him upstairs behind her. "Honestly, thirteen years old and you can't learn to be home before half-past seven! I've had just about enough of this," she continued onto the landing and into the bathroom, "we need to get you away from those friends of yours – they aren't doing you any good if you're coming home this late."_

_Turning the light on, she made straight for the bath and begun to run water whilst instructing him to get his clothes off and get into the water so she could clean him up and send him to bed._

_When he was in, she sat herself down on the toilet seat with a moan as she turned the moveable shower head on. "Your father won't answer his phone – he's obviously too focused on finding you."_

_All this time, the boy had said nothing. He'd sat there in the water, legs crossed and head down, listening with tears in his eyes._

"_Misaki, are you listening to m- oh my God, is that all blood?" she frantically dropped the shower hose behind him and began to search for the wound, "where have you hurt yourself? Tell me?"_

"_I…" he hiccupped, "I don-"_

_He suddenly felt his mother's hands on his shoulders go rigid and then pull away, and then he finally turned up to see her face staring back at his with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. Her expression was a mixture of most negative emotions – worry, anger, confusion…_

_Fear._

_She stood up briskly and stared for a little longer, then eventually spoke to him._

"_Where is my Misaki?" her voice was low, barely above a whisper she asked the question._

"_Right here!" he replied through sobs, his weak voice as strong as he could make it now, without…_

"_You don't even sound like him! You expect me to believe that you are my son when you're a _girl_?"_

"_But I really am!" he choked, getting desperate as she pulled the bath plug and tried to get him out, despite his thrashing._

"_Put these on," she thrust some old clothes at him, "and don't impersonate my son like that again. There is a shelter for homeless orphans somewhere in this city. Go and find it before I call the police!"_

_He was out on the street before he could even blink, the lampposts lighting his way along the cobblestones again._

* * *

"There was a lot more detail to that than I can remember," Misaki admitted, fists clenched, "she didn't suddenly snap like that, she's definitely not that cruel to children, I'm sure… that first night with the curse was hell. I thought I was never going to change back to a boy… I-" her crying stopped her from saying anymore and she gave an inhibited sniff, only to find Totsuka's arms around her, squeezing her hard in an attempt to comfort her.

"I was actually going to ask if you remembered anything about how you _became_ like you are now, if you know what I mean," he said softly, "but that's enough for today. Don't worry yourself, ok? It'll all work out, Misaki-chan."

She looked up and his face was inches away from hers, displaying a small, goofy smile that was a little toned down from his usual one to try and not make it come across as unwanted. Misaki felt a third hand and realised it was Kamamoto's on her shoulder. She glanced at him gratefully as she returned the younger's embrace before speaking again.

"I think we should leave Misaki-chan and go home, Totsuka-san," Rikio said, his voice as quiet as the others', "we'll be here bright and early tomorrow morning, ready for the change, yeah?"

"Yeah," they both seemed to reply at once.

* * *

Of _all _the people he had to accidentally walk into that day, especially after the episode the night before, it just _had_ to be Fushimi.

They were as it usually went during their daytime meetings: a metre or so away from each other, staring angrily at their enemies' face, although only one of them actually meant what they were doing.

_I suppose_, Yata thought solemnly as he ignored the next round of insults (it was best to let the monkey win sometimes to keep his confidence up for when he sees Misaki, after all), _that I'm lying to him so much at the moment. Too much. But, if I told him… there is no way I can know how he'll react. Either he'll treat me the same and keep on… loving… Yata too, avoid Misaki and Yata or just hate both our guts. And, to be honest, I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with any of them. Not even the first one; the awkwardness would still be there and probably wouldn't ever leave._

"You know," he shoved his hands in his shorts' pockets and stomped a foot onto his skateboard, "a few weeks ago I saw you and your bitch up at the aquarium. Poor thing, terrified by the sharks, she was."

"How could you have been that close to us without me seeing you? That corridor was fucking tiny!"

"I have my ways," he shrugged.

"Bastard!" this was probably the thousandth time Fushimi had grabbed Yata's collar, "what are you, a stalker or something? You're a pervert, watching me with my girlfriend."

"What?" he scoffed, "how is watching another couple make out in _public_ perverted? Any passer-by could have seen what you two did."

"You saw us-? Fucking Yata…"

And then he did something he had never done before – he punched him in the face. Hard.

Yata felt the skin split instantly and it began to swell as soon as he was dropped to the floor. There was an ugly bruise forming already and he held a hand to his cheek, letting out a pained gasp as Fushimi kicked him slightly less hard in the side and began to walk away.

"If you come near us during our date tonight," he growled as he left, "I'll make sure you get more than that. I might be weaker than a lot of guys, but I know many who are stronger."

* * *

_Yata grunted in pain, keeling over and falling to his knees. He weakly glanced around as he clutched his stomach and ignored the concrete digging into his skin. Good, he didn't think anyone was likely to come into this alley for the next ten minutes or so and see him, so he tried his best to curl up and find a comfortable position despite the rain that was falling mercilessly from the sky. It splashed around him and drained the blood from his scrape-wounds away down a drain and also gave him something to focus on in an attempt to ignore the pain._

_Why did he see this coming? It was obvious it was getting dark _ages_ ago – what made him forget and then lead him to having to change in an alley that smelt like shit? His hands left his stomach for a second and he rubbed them against his face, scraping his growing nails down his skin to see if it was also good enough to distract himself. The evening ones were _always_ the worst. The only ones that made him bleed. The only ones that felt like his chest was on fire. The only ones that twisted and warped his body to be like something it shouldn't, something it simply couldn't cope with._

_For a second, he'd wondered just how long he would be able to cope before he couldn't anymore._

_Struggling to find a third distraction (three or more was a good number to ensure maximum pain relief, he'd found out), he tried going over the stages of the change in his head to make the time seem to pass by a lot quicker._

_The first was an uncomfortable feeling – cramps in his stomach and that general area that didn't hurt at first, but quickly grew into sharp pains like flaming needles were being dug into his skin with every breath he took. This could last from anywhere from a minute to fifteen minutes._

_The second was when things, per se, actually started 'happening'. Not really great or pleasing to describe; in summary it was all the internal things appearing that made a girl…a girl, and all the male parts disappearing in a way that he never bothered to find out about because it hurt too much. This would cause bleeding in… places, and that lasted for about five or six minutes before the pain seemed to die down a little._

_Oh, but no – it didn't stop there. This curse was to give him the general, stereotyped image of a girl his age; long hair, long nails, a curvaceous body and a fuller face. And that fucking hurt too. Not to mention other 'general' things like a higher voice, daintier hands and smaller feet. Pain, pain everywhere._

_Now _that_ was it, thankfully. It would just take him another forever to recover from it and continue with his evening life as usual. Expect, now, as a female member of the human race._

"_Miss? Miss, are you ok?"_

_A voice pulled her from her third distraction, and a quick pain check in her throat told her that it was safe to speak with the stranger and tell him that she was ok and to leave her alone, but she didn't have the chance._

_She heard hurried footsteps getting closer to her and the figure bent down beside her, placing a hand on a part of her back that wasn't against the wall and rubbing it gently._

"_What's wrong?" the soft voice asked, "are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Oh God, you're bleeding – don't tell me some guy ra-"_

"_No, no, I'm fine. Nothing like that happened," she responded feebly, "I just… fell, I think. I'm fine now, I can stand, look. See?"_

"_How old are you?"_

"_Um…17."_

"_You haven't been drinking underage, have you? It's not good…"_

"_Nothing like that, I promise!" she turned to face him desperately, tears still in her eyes._

_Someone of her own age was staring back, his dark eyes widening worriedly behind his midnight-coloured hair. His face held a concerned frown and his hands were now firmly on her shoulders, but not enough to make Misaki feel threatened._

"_I'm Fushimi Saruhiko," he told her carefully, "what's your name, miss?"_

"_Ya… uh… Misaki. It's Misaki."_

_The one time she could use her feminine first name for a good cause._

"_Don't want to tell me your last name, Misaki-chan?"_

_She thought it best to just shake her head._

"_Come on," he said, starting to walk whilst still clinging onto her, "even if you won't tell me what's wrong, and I completely understand that because I'm a random guy you've never met you before, I'm still going to get you something to eat and drink, ok? In a public place where I definitely can't do anything, yeah?"_

"_Yeah, ok."_

* * *

_Did I really just write a thousand words about three men stealing women's underwear…?_

_I could have made the second flashback a _lot_ more disturbing, but I don't think you all want that, and I'm not sure it would fall under 'T' either, with what I wanted to address. And with that, it's probably something I won't ever talk about in the whole story and just ignore because that's convenient~!_

_Ah, well. Two weeks' time, guys! Promise!_


	4. Chapter 4

*Sigh* Ehhh… two weeks, plus allowing time for the fact I was ill. Not the kind of ill like "woop, I can write a ton of stuff and miss school, yay~", but instead, "ok woah I can't even get out of bed without being sick woops." And then we have new things such as Free! to contend with, Attack on Titan and other crappy excuses that I can throw out into virtual space. But you'll be pleased to know that the chapter after this is written, as it was originally going to be with this update but it made the word count ridiculously long. I have also (in my moments of strength) written scenes that will be inserted into later updates, and I have planned this fic completely. There will be twenty chapters, and I aim to finish it by the end of summer, as I hopefully have a lot of time. Updates are now weekly, apart from the next chapter which you will see next Saturday, 20th July. _You will see it next Saturday. I mean it._

**KelAlexshipper4evah:** I'm glad I did make you laugh! That was, after all, my intention.

**Blackandwhiteangel13:** Saruhiko is rather blinded by love, I'm afraid. And it's not something that the average person would expect, is it? As for underwear, Yata grabs whatever he can and doesn't have time to check for sizes. It's likely it'll take a lot of tries to get a decent amount that will fit him c:

**Call Me Tom:** If you do review this chapter dear, remember to not mention anything about spoilers for this fic I've given you! Especially, /those/ ones. Yeah, them. You know what I'm talking about.

**Redthorn13:** *Shifts eyes awkwardly* well, I didn't but… are you still waiting?

**lovelysickness:** Your review is gorgeous and really lovely, thank you :) As for the hate Fushimi has for Yata, that will be explained, don't worry. I'm so glad you like it!

**Mizuouji:** In love? *grins* thank you so much! I really appreciate it. And I hope you enjoyed your birthday~

**Taz:** I KNOW ISN'T IT JUST

* * *

_**Living Twice, Chapter 4**_

* * *

"_Sorry, it's not the classiest restaurant in the city," Saruhiko smiled nervously, "but I'm not that rich at the moment, so… this is all I could afford, really."_

"_You don't even know me, Fushimi-san," Misaki looked up at him, over his arms that were supporting her shoulders, "you don't even have to take me anywhere. I can just go home."_

"_Not when it's this dark, you're not," he insisted as they stepped through the doors, "I still don't know what's wrong, but we don't want it happening again. You need something to eat and to get cleaned up, and this place'll make sure of that."_

_She looked around, taking in the interior. It was a quiet pizza restaurant with soft music humming through an old jukebox and polished wooden tables that lined the edges of the room. Only a few were occupied._

"_We'll take a seat up at the counter, where we can watch the chef make our dinner, yeah?" Saruhiko nudged her forward gently when he noticed se had stopped. He took a seat on one of the higher chairs and tapped the surface in front of himself gently to get someone's attention._

"_Excuse me," he raised his voice a little, leaning forward over the till and catching the eye of a large man in a chef's cap._

"_How can I help you?"_

"_Misaki-chan here tripped and fell, and she's bleeding. Do you have anywhere she can get herself cleaned up?"_

_The man glanced at her and frowned, seeing the dirt on her face and the blood that covered a lot of her legs. "Oh, my…" he said, his accent Saruhiko now registering as vaguely Italian._

"_It's not that serious," Misaki said quietly, hunching her shoulders as he cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, "it looks worse than it is. I can… handle it on my own."_

_The chef bent down behind the counter before re-appearing again with a medium-sized green box, "take the first-aid kit, miss. The woman's toilets are just over there to your left."_

"_Ah…um… thanks a lot," she stared intently at her feet whilst receiving it, not really wanting to look the man in the eye._

"_Take your time, Misaki-chan!" Saruhiko called after her, an anxious frown pulling at his mouth as he watched the redhead disappear._

_The man behind the counter gave a polite cough as he continued to stare closely at the bathroom door._

"_Sir?" he finally caught the noirette's attention._

"_Oh, sorry, yes?"_

"_Did you want to order something while you're waiting for her?"_

"…_Yeah, I guess…" he flicked over the menu that had just been handed to him, scanning the pages half-heartedly with his dark eyes. "I'll have some cloudy lemonade for my drink," he finally said, "and that's it for now. I want to wait Misaki-chan to get back before I order food."_

"_Of course," the chef replied with a nod and (after a moment's hesitation that Saruhiko didn't see because he was busy looking at his fidgeting hands) added something else, "are you together? You know… like a couple?"_

_He started at that, jerking his head up and holding a frozen, open-jaw expression for a while. It didn't take his face long to turn the same shade of red that had lit up Misaki's earlier and he buried it in his hands for a second before adjusting his glasses and shuffling in his seat._

"_This might sound a little weird," he replied, "but I only met her a few minutes ago… I found her hurt and stuff, so I brought her here…"_

_The man gave him a surprised look, but not the negative kind. Well, Saruhiko actually couldn't tell what kind, but neither of them said anything after that. Unless you counted the part where he mumbled a quiet thanks for his beverage as it was passed to him._

* * *

Yata limped over to the wall of the building nearby, tenderly rubbing his face as he rested against the cold stone surface. The kick in his side had winded him, and he was beginning to really get worried that there could have been more internal damage, but he could feel his breath returning to normal as his body began to accept air normally again.

He lifted up his jumper and black tank top to assess the damage he was able to see. There was a large red area that was fading around the edges, although the remainder was beginning to turn purple, spreading from just above his hip to below his ribs.

"Ah… he" exhaled, "Clumps-kun was wearing his big boots today, wasn't he?"

His own statement caused a sudden wave of guilt to wash over him, and his expression changed from a pained one to a look of guilt. If Fushimi had known who he had just hurt… Yata bit his lip. He could picture Saruhiko, hand over his mouth and eyes glossing over with tears as he realised what he'd done, wide and shocked beyond belief.

It was uncomfortable because the redhead couldn't be sure that that would be his lover's reaction. He could also imagine him laughing, giving him a cocky look and a strange smile like he'd instantly taken Yata's existence over Misaki's. Or maybe he'd just run away? Break contact with the both of them?

Swallowing, he took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. That wasn't the problem to tackle right now - or rather, it would be if he didn't deal with this first one properly. He needed to find a way to hide all this. The bruise on his side wasn't a problem - the outfit he was planning to wear that evening would cover it easily. But his face… he could feel blood trickling down his right cheek, tracing past his lip towards his chin. Some seeped into his mouth and he winced at the metallic taste.

Yata gathered his sleeve and wiped it away with it. He frowned as his jumper was stained a dark red and set himself on the floor, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He slid his thumb across the lock screen to join up the combination and opened his contacts after it clicked. Within seconds he had Kamamoto on the phone, sighing with relief when he heard the other's voice.

"Yata-san, what's wrong? We're almost here… just struggling a little with all the bags."

He swallowed, "I ran into Fushimi…"

There was silence for a few moments before Kamamoto seemed to catch on, and he heard the hesitation in his voice as the other spoke over the phone.

"Do you want us to head back to your place and bring anything?"

"It's unfair on you, but I can't bleed all over the floor when we get to the hairdresser's, so…"

"Should I bring the whole first aid kit?"

"Rikio-san, I can't feel half my face."

"…Whole kit it is, then."

He hung up after that, but Yata heard him mutter urgently to Totsuka before the line cut off.

It took them an extra ten minutes, but by that time, the redhead had taken his jumper all the way off and used it to wipe as much blood away as he could.

The two blondes were by his side as soon as they saw him, although it took them a couple of seconds because he'd tucked himself away in an alley. When they questioned him about this, he replied with a pained voice, "well, I don't want a fucking randomer fussing over me. Also, I think this is the alley where I first met Clumps-kun."

Totsuka raised his eyebrows, setting the sacks down by his feet. "Seriously?"

"It's a pretty small and ironic world, isn't it?" Yata said quietly as Kamamoto knelt down by his shoulder with an antiseptic wipe.

"What are you going to do about this later?" The larger of the blondes began lightly dabbing away at the remaining (now dried) blood that smeared his face. It caused a quiet whine of pain from the red head before he gave his reply.

"I'll just have to hope a ton of make-up will cover it up," he glowered.

"Let's hope so," he mumbled a concerned reply, "so I don't need to bandage this up, then? It'd just stick out otherwise."

"Yeah, leave i- oh, shit that hurts!"

"Sorry."

This process continued on for another few minutes, stopping every now and then to allow cursing from Yata's mouth and hasty apologies from Rikio, or Totsuka who was trying to get a better look at the bruise on the red head's stomach.

"Do you really need to fuss over that?" Yata asked him at one point, flinching whenever the youngest prodded his finger into his side.

"There could be internal bleeding! Calm down, it's fine~"

"That is not how you check for internal bleeding, Totsuka-san."

"I thought all bruises were technically internal bleeding?" Kamamoto wondered.

Tatara's eyes widened and a stunned sort of expression spread across his face. Suddenly, he desperately clung to Yata, furiously patting his head as he 'reassured' him, "don't worry, Yata-chan. It's going to be ok, just keep calm… you won't die, I promi-"

"I'm not going to die from something like this!"

It was a little longer until Rikio hand finally declared him to be cleaned up properly, and a little longer after that until the trio got their act together and actually decided to focus on the task at hand, which was to deliver the sacks full of Misaki's hair.

"They'll notice," Yata grumbled, lugging one of the bags over the shoulder that wasn't on his injured side. Walking wasn't too hard a job; it was his face that was throbbing wildly and it wasn't only once that blood began to leak from the wound again.

"They won't," the two blondes insisted in unison, having argued this statement about ten times before in the past five minutes.

"There's blood running down my fucking face! How can they not?"

"…Just act like it isn't there. And if they do mention anything, tell them that it doesn't hurt or whatever," Rikio offered.

"…Tch, like that'll work."

"I thought you seemed pretty determined to get this money?"

"…Yeah."

A slim man with black haired pulled back into a high ponytail was unlocking the door of the hairdresser's, chatting casually to the person next to him who was practically a complete opposite. Smaller, paler, startlingly white hair and a ridiculously goofy grin on his face that looked virtually impossible to wipe off.

"Yatogami-san! Shiro-san!" Yata called out to them, trying to stop the sharp intake of breath caused from the sting in his cheek afterwards.

"Oh, there you are!" the shorter of the two replied back, twirling the red umbrella that rested on his shoulder "you were here before us the past couple of times - Kuroh and I were just wondering what was keeping you."

"Nothing much," Yata shrugged, dropping the bag by their feet, "I was just a bit delayed because I brought these two along with me."

Isana glanced behind the red head's shoulder and waved at Totsuka and Kamamoto. "Hey! It's awesome to meet friends of Yata-san's. My name's Isana Yashiro, but everyone calls me Shiro. And this," he signalled to the person next to him, "is Yatogami Kuroh. Oh - is that the hair?"

Yata nodded.

"Ah, great; bring it all in then, and I'll get your money for you."

* * *

_"What would you like to eat, Misaki-chan?" Saruhiko leaned closer and slid the menu across the surface of the bar to rest in the middle of them. He unfolded it, obviously eager to eat too, and Misaki took the moment to watch him up close._

_He was sweating ever so slightly and there was a light flush on his face from the heat of being sat near the ovens. His hair, which had begun to stick to his forehead, shined a tiny bit cyan due to the light above. His eyes caught the glow aswell, and she observed how much of a gorgeous shade of blue they had turned out to be. But his black-rimmed glasses drew her attention away from them, and instead put her focus on his cheekbones and lips, which were pushed into a tiny pout that went with knitted eyebrows as he struggled to decide on what he was going to be eating. His whole face seemed to be set._

_Saruhiko's eyelashes were probably longer than the average male's, she supposed (only having her own to go own wasn't very helpful), long enough that sometimes they would get caught on the glass in front of them as he blinked. Why were his glasses pushed so close to his face? Misaki was surprised he had no will to adjust them, because it looked to be quite irritating._

_She jerked when he caught her gaze and quickly looked down, brushing some stray hair away from her eyes. She missed his expression and eventually lost the battle of resisting looking back. Misaki ran her eyes over his hands and noticed how he always seemed to slide his first two fingers down the sides of the pages before catching the corner of the menu and turning it over. She hoped he wouldn't cut himself if he continued to do that._

_It was only when the noirette repeated his question that she registered that he had even asked on in the first place. She hastily pointed to a random, letting a sigh escape when she saw that it only (thankfully contained) toppings she was fond of, or wouldn't mind eating. A meat selection with peppers and caramelised onions._

_"Ah... that?" Saruhiko blinked, "..sure, yeah. We'll have that, if you want."_

_"We're sharing, Fushimi-san?"_

_"It's cheaper."_

_Misaki's face fell further and she looked down at the prices. They weren't that expensive; simply average restaurant price. How much of this meal was paid for by his kindness, and how much by his wallet?_

_"And, um... what do you want to drink?"_

_"Tap water," she replied instantly, making him jump a little. Because it's free._

_Saruhiko nodded after a few seconds and replyed the order to the chef who, having no other meals to prepare, began instantly on their pizza. The drinks were served by another waiter and Misaki quietly sat and sipped at her water while she watched._

_Fushimi talked again a few minutes later after taking a noticeably large gulp of lemonade. He shuffled round in his seat so that he was more angled towards her and gave a small smile. He earned the mirror of this expression for her and noticebly relaxed his shoulders._

_"So... where are you from, Misaki-chan?"_

_There was obviously going to be hesitation in her answer: Saruhiko didn't seem at all shifty - just a little awkward and most likely genuinely concered about her, but the red head still has the problem of just how much information she was going to relay to him. Enough to fill a polite and lengthy conversation, but not so much as to give her true indentity away. Thus (and it was all in this rather short timeframe), she decided on a rough personality she'd give herself whilst talking to him. A tiny bit shy, but also funny, and knowledgeable. Was that how all girls acted? She had no idea; she may have been one for a long time, but she'd always continue acting as if she were male. There was no reason not to, unless she was out late shopping, but then she'd just speak as little as possible._

_"Just out of the city, not too far," she explained._

_"Really? I'd kind of assumed you lived outside the area quite a bit - I live only a few streets away and I don't ever recall seeing you before."_

_"I... don't get out that much."_

_"Oh... I see."_

_Silence again. So much for acting cute._

_Misaki jerked at her own thought and Saruhiko gave her a questioning look that she didn't catch. Cute? Why did she want to act cute for him? Glancing over, she regarded him again as she bit her lip. He had retreated to drinking his drink again, this time with a straw. His right hand rested on his face and he quickly flushed when he saw her looking at him again. Although the noirette had done his best to hide it, she still caught the reddening of his cheeks and felt her own do the same._

_Inwardly, she groaned. He was a guy! she couldn't be attracted to another guy! Besides, they'd only just met - it was weird..._

_Saruhiko sighed softly and used his first finger to run his straw round the edge of his glass absently._

_She swallowed. Maybe._

* * *

Yata fumbled through his wardrobe, hastily checking each dress to see if anything he had was suitable for the evening. He wanted something lightweight and on the thin side because, even though he hadn't been to a nightclub before, he could easily guess how sweaty it was going to get with tons of people all squeezed onto one dance floor/ bar, ridiculously bright lights and that smoke they randomly poured into the room every now and then. Not too short though, or with a too low a neck line… that could end with some unwelcome results. However, he still had it set in his mind that it needed to be cute, or, rather, something that Saruhiko would find endearing. Clumps-kun hadn't said much about what he was going to wear or what he suggested Misaki should wear, but Yata could guess that he'd come up with something nice.

His right arm was currently partially disabled, thanks to the phone he had tucked between the side of his chin and his shoulder. Totsuka was on the other end, and, after looking back, the red-head didn't know why he had ever called him in the first place. The blonde was younger, hadn't been out with anyone, and most certainly had not been to a night club. Although, he had been the one to find the dress that Saruhiko had taken such a liking to. Maybe he'd do it again?

"You want something with a bit of glitter on," his voice had the expected distortion that usually came with a phone line, "something that sparkles - it'll reflect the light then."

"Ahhh," he mumbled in reply, "I have a few of those, Totsuka-san… what about the main colour?"

"Anything, anything you want," he replied almost without any hesitation, "just nothing too bright. It'd looked ridiculous on you."

"Since when did you become a fashion expert?" he grinned, even though the other couldn't see.

"Come on, every girl that wants to go out 'clubbing with their man' should know this stuff."

"And you're a girl, then?"

A choked and spluttered sound was the only answer.

Yata eventually settled for a navy dress with a pleated lower half and a pre-attached thin, white belt. The sleeves were t-shirt length and the hem was just above her knees.

"I found a dark blue one," he said, "and I think I have a matching bow… in here… somewhere…," he used his left hand to explore through a purple box full of clips and hairbands, eventually pulling out a cobalt-coloured accessory with glittering polka dots. He held it up to his face with a frown, absently blowing some hair out of his eyes.

"Is this too much?" he asked.

"I can't see it, Yata-chan."

"Oh, let me send a pict… shit, this is the house phone. Hang on."

All Totsuka could hear when he fell silent were the occasional curses and grumbles, with a lot of shuffling and rummaging sounds in between.

"Where did I put my fucking….? It's not in…. ugh…. maybe, ah shit not there…"

"I think you're worrying too much, Yata-chan."

"What? No way!"

"I don't think Fushimi would really care at all what you're going to be wearing tonight. I mean, what were you wearing when he first saw you? It definitely wasn't your sense of dress that he feel in love with."

The searching noises faded into silence.

"I guess you're right, Totsuka-san."

"Just wear it, it's not like he's going to insult you or anything. Heh, unless you went as Yata."

Yata bit his lip; he was slowly beginning to realise that the younger had pointed out more things than he intended. Saruhiko had almost certainly fallen for Misaki's personality, his personality, alone, and not how she looked. If he had, well, he wasn't sure he'd want to date someone who enjoyed seeing their lover with blood all over their body and dirt obscuring their face. He liked Misaki for who she was… would he be able to get past his curse and male self if he found out because of this.

But, there was still the possibility that he wouldn't get past…

He audibly grunted, balling his free hand into a fist and pressing it against his forehead. Thinking about this again? It wasn't the time!

"…Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that."

"Alright, great! Now, uh… is there anything else you need? Dinner's almost finished cooking, so…"

"What kind of shoes should I wear?"

"Anything but boots. You'll be way too hot in boots. Grab some nice slip-ons or something."

"Ok, thanks, Totsuka-san."

"See ya!"

"Bye…"

The line cut with a low and soft 'beep' and he threw it onto his bed behind him, crouching down to look at his selection of available footwear. It was a little dark and hard to see, buried beneath the shadows of the garments hanging above, but Yata could make out the substantial amount that he owned. Wow, he really did have a lot of pairs… his frown fell further. There were so many in here that he hadn't even worn twice. Some none at all; they were ditched at the last minute when finalising an outfit to wear on a date with Saruhiko. He shoved his hand amongst them all, letting the scent of unworn leather escape and dust fly up from the shoes that hid at the back. How much had all of this cost? He was literally spending so much money and he knew he didn't have to.

Pausing just to sigh, he couldn't help but let the train of thought continue down its tracks. How much could he have saved by wearing a pair for more than one date? He wasn't even aware he had been even doing that. And it was only now that he was starting to get how Saruhiko most likely didn't even give a flying _fuck _about what Misaki wore. Sure, she was complemented when she wore something super nice - that dress from the evening spent at the aquarium, for example - but why was it such a subconscious issue? Did all girls think like this? But, girls going out of their way to dress nice for guys, buy ridiculous amounts of shoes and obsess over little things like a stupid fucking bow were only stereotypes…

His eyes widened and then he lowered his eyebrows as an afterthought twisted its way into his brain and settled there.

Stereotypes.

"_Oh," the laugh ricocheted off of the close surroundings , "it'll be more than that. I'll give you labels, things just to make you just as people want you to be. Average. One of those silly little female protagonists in movies that only get the boy they want after they've changed for them. Or at least, the ones that think they have to change. Stupid bitches."_

"_I… I don't understand what you're talking abo-"_

_Smack._

_"Didn't I tell you to shut up? Neko-chan, do it now."_

Bile rose in his throat as the memory refused to stop playing.

_The figure was getting closer, bending down in front of him and placing a freezing cold hand on the centre of his chest, so cold it leaked through his torn jumper and deep into his skin, so far he'd thought it would be settling there forever. The hand gripped the fabric tightly, as well as the layer beneath it and Yata heard himself squeal when nails dug into flesh. With desperate eyes, he looked up at the one who had just been addressed._

_Her face was in shadow, and her shapely figure was hazy in the background. She was wearing something woollen that made Yata's vision blur even further. She said nothing. So quiet, he could barely hear her breathing. But her mouth moved and spoke a silent sentence, her lip gloss shimmering in the late sunset._

_Pain._

_He screamed, louder than he ever screamed before. Someone in the back of his mind, in the part that didn't care, he wondered if anyone heard._

_Stop please that hurts stop please I can't take it stop stop stop please STOP_

The present slammed into him and he trembled, retching. Suddenly everything smelled to strong and the light coming in from the setting sun was too intense and penetrating. His vision kept failing and before he could even tell his legs to move he was in the bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach.

Clutching the sides of the toilet, he slowly felt his breaths fall into a ragged pattern, only for his heart (that had been pounding fiercely in his chest) to suddenly switch to overdrive again when a pain swelled through his stomach.

"Ah… _shit…_ not now… please…"

* * *

_If you have been paying attention to the story covers for this fic, you'll have noticed that it has changed a lot. A /lot/. I think I'm going to settle for the one I've got right now, but it might foreshadow too much? Shit…. aw, damn. Now you've looked at it! Close it off, close it!_

_Apologies for spelling/grammar mistakes. I rushed editing to get this out for you all :) _


	5. Chapter 5

I did it! I promised to you all that I'll update, and I did! Also, considering that today is Yata's birthday, it makes this chapter even more special for that reason. Like I said last week, this is actually the second half of chapter four, so it is shorter (only by 300 words or so, don't worry), but we're still calling it chapter five~ Enjoy!

* * *

_**Living Twice, Chapter 5**_

For the first few moments after she drifted back into consciousness, Totsuka's voice sounded to Misaki a lot like it had through the phone; distorted and hard to separate words into sentences from.

"Misaki-chan?" eventually she understood, only really responding when she felt him shake her arm gently (after her had first seen her stir, of course).

She groaned softly, clenching and unclenching her hands and absently rolling over onto her side, only to see her living room.

Blinking, she forced her brain to re-make its connections and sat up. She scratched at her shoulder and looked over at Totsuka and Kamamoto in confusion. Her eyes were still half-lidded and her limbs were faintly throbbing, but she managed to focus enough to listen to their questions and answer them.

"We came over because Kamamoto left his phone here..." his face was showing obvious signs of worry for her and his tone was a higher pitch, "the front door was unlocked, and we called out your name quite a lot of times. When you didn't answer, we searched for you... Kamamoto said that he found you slumped over the bath... what happened?"

The events of before she fell unconscious we still very faint to her, so much so that it was impossible to gather any memories regarding them. All that she could recall was pain (and a lot of it), so she spoke her conclusion to her thoughts out loud: "it must have been a rough change. That's all. I'm feeling better already, I think."

"That's good," both of the males managed a smile and Misaki mirrored it for them. Kamamoto helped her up and she looked down at her clothes, realising with a start that she hadn't yet got dressed for the evening.

"Totsuka-san, what's the time?" she turned to face him directly, biting her lip.

"Ah..." he glanced his phone, "twenty minutes to seven, but why- oh! Oh my God, you're meeting him at seven, aren't you?"

She nodded urgently and picked up speed as she headed to her room; "I just need to get changed!" she called, pausing for a second to lean against the wall (her legs ached).

"I laid your stuff on out your bed," Kamamoto called after her, "Totsuka-san told me what you need."

"Thank you so much!"

"She sounds a lot better..." Rikio remarked, looking over at the other blonde.

"...But I don't think she is," Totsuka, sharing the same opinion, finished his sentence for him. His frown was back and, during the silence that followed, he spent it glancing anxiously at random points in the room.

He took a deep breath and caught Kamamoto gaze again, letting a sigh escape. "She might be a little out of it on her date, especially at a place like she's going to. Not to mention she had those earlier injuries... we can't let her go alone."

"You're right," he agreed with a nod, "but she won't like it."

"We won't tell her, then. It'll be better that way, anyway. She won't be constantly distracted by us being there and she'll be able to focus her attention on Fushimi. Agreed?"

"Agreed. But we need disguises, then - we hardly look clubbing material right now, Totsuka-san."

"I'll take care of that, don't worry. Hey, Misaki-chan?" he shouted, walking up to her bedroom door and tapping on it, "do you need help with covering the cut on your face? I brought extra make-up!"

* * *

_She was a little worried about how she had so willingly given Saruhiko her mobile phone number when they had left the restaurant. From what Misaki had seen of him, he didn't really seem pushy or scary or anything - like how she typically viewed a person that was up to no good - but, then again, she'd never actually met a person that was up to no good. The fact that he had gone to all that trouble to fix her up and get her fed and then accepting that she'd wanted to walk home by herself was questionable, yet the red head found it only slightly was. After all, he did put himself across as a really nice (albeit a little odd and a tad obsessive) guy in their conversations._

_They had stayed at the restaurant for about two hours, engaged in small talk for the first part before their sentences seemed to transform into genuine discussions. He had listened to her with interest when she had something to say, and she back to him. They ate pizza and, after having so many refills of cloudy lemonade, began getting them for free to the point when it had run out. The chef occasionally joined in too when he wasn't working, and for a while she forgot about the fact that she was interacting with someone while she was a girl. At first, that whole idea had seemed alien to her. When she began living at the orphan house a few years ago, Misaki always remembered to keep her hair the same length at all times of the day and was constantly in male clothes. When she had turned sixteen almost two years ago, her female side had become a lot more obvious, but she was allowed to move into her own apartment before she could no longer get away with her disguises easily._

_With Saruhiko, the red head felt that she was able to relax, and she found herself feeling a pang of sadness when he had stood up to pay the bill after her last bite of chocolate fudge cake. It meant that she'd had to leave now, but she wasn't the only one that wanted to stay in touch. At first, he had offered for her to not give him her number and for her to just take his (that meant that if she never felt the need to text him, he'd never have to know any personal details), but she'd told him no and insisted that they exchange both, which they did._

_Misaki had saved his name as 'Clumps-kun' because of the way he did his hair, and because he had laughed so hard through a slice of pizza when she had mentioned it earlier._

_"I think," she remembered him speaking hesitantly as she saw her house come into view around the corner, "that I'd like to see you again, Misaki-chan."_

_"Yes... that would be nice."_

_"Just text me if you want to. You don't have to."_

_"I know, I will. Well... bye then, I guess."_

_"...Bye."_

_Suddenly, the screen of her phone flashed - only 10% charge remaining. It was probably because she had been staring at it with a stupid smile on her face for the whole journey._

_Misaki selected Saruhiko off her contacts list and opened up an empty message box._

Are you busy on Sunday?_ she typed._

_It was 10:45pm, the reply was almost instant._

What time? :)

Evening sometime :)

I'll check

Ok, I'm free

Great :)

_No reply for a while, then_

Where would you like to go? x

* * *

"Am I late?" Misaki rested her hands on her knees as soon as she stopped running, panting heavily.

"Not at all," Saruhiko assured her, a concerned look passing over his expression when he saw how worn out she was, but he smiled afterwards "I only just got here myself. The doors open in about twenty minutes."

"Really?" she raised her eyebrows and straightened herself with a small stretch. Blood was pounding in her ears and she could feel her cheeks redden behind the unevenly caked-on make-up she was wearing. Kamamoto and Tostuka had done a surprisingly good job with covering up the wound, and, even though they had practically used up a whole pot of powder foundation, her face still looked surprisingly natural. Well, that was only if you were looking from afar... and she doubted it would stay that way with Saruhiko... but Misaki hoped that the confusing flashes of strobe lights and filters would throw his observations off when he made them.

"Yep. Oh… your dress is really nice, Misaki-chan," he said as he took her hand, "when did you get it?"

"Last week," they walked together, footsteps slightly out of time on the city street pavement, "I'm glad you like it."

She sighed softly and looked up at him. He had turned his head away to regard their surroundings, but he must have felt her gaze, because he was now, once again, locking eyes with her. The thought only gently passed by her mind that they had had pretty much the same conversation about her choice in eveningwear the time they went to the aquarium, and also at all the times in between then and now.

His hand was warm in hers, and she felt him squeeze it a little tighter when they looked at each other. The evening was warm but with a cooling breeze that passed by every now and then, and the sun was poised to set over the skyline. Various adverts lit up the black silhouette of the buildings and the sound of vehicles bustling past only added to the energetic but relaxing urban feeling. Organised chaos that she loved to enjoy when her body would give her a break. More, especially, with Saruhiko.

"How far away is the club?" she asked, breaking the silence that had followed them.

"Oh, not very," he assured her as they continued, "just a few streets away, that's all. Oh-" he suddenly jerked, glancing down at the bag he was carrying in his other hand and replying hastily when Misaki gave him a questioning look, "I brought a few drinks for us. I think I mentioned it before, but we're technically not allowed in this club until we're twenty, and we're definitely not allowed to buy any alcohol, but it's run by the... company I work for."

"So that means we can just go in?"

"I told my boss I needed some place to take my girlfriend, or, rather, he asked me why I was texting and to whom in the office..." Saruhiko flushed red and gave a sheepish grin, "and he instantly suggested here, on the grounds that I keep up a few of my... duties as an employee. And we get free entry, so I suppose it's ok? Sorry if it's not, I-"

"It's fine, Clumps-kun," she told him and pulled herself closer to his body, pressing the side of her head lightly on his right arm, "I don't really mind where you take me. It's just nice to be with you."

"But is this even the sort of thing you like?" he asked worriedly, and it was obvious he had already forced his second thoughts out of his mind before meeting her (and that they were starting to come back).

"I don't know," she shrugged, although her tone of voice was positive, "I've never been, and neither have you, so, personally, I think it will be a great experience for the both of us."

He smiled, feeling encouraged by her attitude, "yeah."

The regular evening city sounds were soon added to - a clear sound of a large group of people chattering wildly - and its source was found as the couple turned a corner to directly face the queue to get in to the night club.

"We can get in a different way," it was only when Saruhiko nudged her forward that the red head realised that she'd stopped, "come on."

She couldn't help but look at the other girls in the line as they went past. Most of them were in groups, some had guys locking arms with them. They held tiny little purses in their hands or had them on a thin strap hanging over their shoulders. Misaki vaguely remembered how she often had the urge to wear something seemingly as pointless as one of them, but her male side had thankfully remained dominant in a small number of places, although it had taken a while of avoiding accessory shops and the like before it went away. Their dresses appeared all in a similar style, although she did notice almost instantly how some of the girls' were a lot more revealing than hers.

Was she glad that Saruhiko wasn't looking at them, too? Was she worried that he would think someone else that was waiting in that line was prettier? She scoffed to herself - of course not! There was no way he would...

...but that one did have a really nice shade of blonde hair.

"Misaki-chan?" her lover's voice once again brought her back down into reality and quickly put on a smile, the truthfulness in it growing as he copied.

They eventually came to a door that was twenty or so meters from where the queue was, and it was guarded by a man than looked only slightly older than them. He had not yet seen them approach; he stood with his arms crossed and facing the road opposite him. His dark green hair was caught by some imaginary wind. Or gel. Probably just gel.

"Akiyama-san," Saruhiko greeted him, catching his attention quickly.

"Oh, good evening, Fushimi-san," the other male replied. He was only hesitant for a second until he realised who he was speaking to, "the captain told me that you were coming with a plus one," he glanced at Misaki, "is this her?"

He nodded as an answer and the red head smiled awkwardly.

Picking up a clipboard off of the floor, Akiyama took out a pen and scribbled something down. "Ok," he said afterwards, still holding their attention, "you can go in now, but just let me know when you're leaving." He unlocked the door and held it open.

"Oh, we won't be staying too late," Saruhiko told him, patting him on the shoulder as he grabbed Misaki's hand again and led her inside.

* * *

Kamamoto sighed to himself in disbelief, wiping a large hand down his face.

He was seated on the edge of the sofa in Totsuka's living room, looking up at said owner with such scepticism he wondered how it was not being noticed. The younger blonde hovered over him with his regular cheeky grin and bright eyes.

"Well, Rikio-san? What do you think?"

"You have got to be shitting me. Sombreros?_ sombreros_?"

Totsuka jerked with both confused and surprised disappointment, "what's wrong with them? I must have said; we need to make ourselves as unrecognisable as possible, so dressing up like people from a foreign country is a great idea, don't you think?"

"But just... look at them. We'd be so fucking conspicuous it'd be unreal."

"At least then we'd be conspicuous for a different reason! Our Mexican style will completely throw Misaki-chan off if she sees us!"

Kamamoto grunted, receiving the hat half-heartedly and wincing further when Totsuka carried on, "I've got the rest of the stuff upstairs - you know, ponchos, fake moustaches."

"...I can't believe you sometimes, Totsuka-san."

* * *

As soon as she stepped foot inside the main room, Misaki instantly was hit by a large wave of light, sound and all the other ways that one's senses could be overloaded from a nightclub. She instinctively recoiled and Saruhiko shot her another worried glance, frowning.

"You've already decided that you don't like it?"

"Oh, no, that's not it," she replied quickly, "it was just a... surprise. I mean, I've read about clubs and seen videos about clubs, but I can already tell that actually going to one is going to be quite a different experience!"

Saruhiko beamed, straining to hear her reply above the heavy dance track that was booming through the speakers. He could feel the beat in his chest and she could tell that the both of them would take a second or two to adjust.

"Now that we're here, then," he began, "what would you like to do first?"

"Dance, I suppose!" she had to shout to be heard, even this close, "isn't that what we're here for?"

He nodded enthusiastically and led her across the room, past the bar and the tables that surrounded it. People were already sitting at most of them, and Misaki had the feeling that it was going to get busier still. The smoking area was in the corner opposite, through another door, and she could see a lot of silhouettes moving about inside, with stacks of people coming and going. There was still a large number frequently coming through the entrance; most made their way straight to the dance floor and soon became mingled with the crowd there, moving up and down all together in time with the music. Others, a few already worn out, stood against the surrounding walls with drinks in their hands and were chatting casually to others. A couple was kissing behind one of the speakers, as well as a few more in various spots that clearly demonstrated how important the age limit at this establishment was.

"Exactly how I imagined a place like this," she said quietly to herself with a half-grin, feeling the carpet beneath her feet change into something harder as they mingled into the crowd. Saruhiko pulled her away from the edge of the floor, further into the middle where the bright lights weren't hitting their faces as much, and they fell into the rhythm of the song. She'd never heard it before and probably never will again, she didn't even particularly like it. But something about it automatically urged her to jump up and down. Misaki also noticed how high some of the other women's heels were, and it made her grimace. Dancing like this... they were going to twist their ankle or something! Or, maybe they wouldn't. She couldn't exactly relate to other females directly.

She was genuinely surprised that she was enjoying herself. At first, she was only going so she would be with Saruhiko and didn't really have any hopes or worries about the club - being with him was fine, that was it. Now, though, Misaki really felt like going out of her way to enjoy herself. One hand was in his as they moved, and she saw him catch sight of the bow in her hair at one point. Totsuka had done an amazing job with dressing her up, too; she felt cool in her dress, the shoes she was wearing didn't make her feet ache and everything was easy to move around in.

"Oh, sorry!" she heard the person's voice after they bumped into her, "I didn't see you th... oh."

Misaki glanced at him in confusion, wondering why he had trailed off. It was hard to see who he was amongst the constantly interchanging shadows and flashing spotlights, but she could take in the outrageously large hat he was wearing - a sombrero, to be precise. He stood frozen on the spot and therefore looked even more out of place from the movement of bodies around them.

It was only when a particularly green light flashed across the male's face that she was able to recognise him, and her eyes widened.

Totsuka? Why was he following? Her time with Clumps-kun was _completely_ out of bounds and he knew that well enough.

"Misaki-chan?" Saruhiko spoke (shouted) next when he noticed that she had stopped moving, and the red head quickly looked away from Totsuka, pretending not to notice him. Her lover would be able to recognise him, but Misaki should have no idea who he was.

He had disappeared into the crowd after few seconds, so she turned back to Saruhiko and told him that she was just out of breath. Which was, in fact, a half-truth.

"Oh my... Misaki-chan, what's that on your face?"

Her hand flew to her cheek and it came away red, highlighted even more by the lights flashing at random angles around them. Pain soon followed as she just aggravated the wound again, and now it was re-opened, little bits of foundation that had not yet come away making it sting further.

"Ah..." she said all she could think of to say, "I don't know..."

* * *

_"You guys are always talking about this place, though," Yata said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "what's so great about it? All you ever say is how there are some dudes there and you all hang out and act tough in front of other people."_

_"But it's so fun!" Totsuka insisted; he was taking it upon himself to lead the way, "we do a lot of cool stuff together. It's like a little community. And there is _one _girl."_

_"Really? How old is she?"_

_"Nine."_

"What?"

_"Don't get the wrong idea, Yata-san," Kamamoto said, "the boss is her legal guardian, although, now that you two have mentioned it, I don't really know about her beyond that. She's quiet unless she talks, as the saying goes."_

_"I've never heard of that saying," Totsuka groaned, "and it doesn't even make sense!"_

_"Anyway," Rikio continued, ignoring him and turning to face Yata as they went along, "her name's Anna. And I really think you'll like HOMRA. It's a great place to let off some steam once in a while. We've got a bar too."_

_"I'm not old enough to drink, Rikio-san."_

_"Then we'll get Izumo-san to make you something special!" the youngest of the three interjected yet again, "he mixes amazing non-alcoholic cocktails."_

_"...You two aren't doing such a great job of convincing me, are you?"_

_"Oh come on, Yata-san," Totsuka said, "we're already here, so deal with it. See?"_

_He was pointing to a building on the corner of the street, just a few shops down from the shopping centre entrance. The word 'HOMRA' was engraved on a sign above the door and the whole place seemed to give off the impression of something casual, yet sophisticated. Or something like that, anyway._

_Rikio pushed the door and it swung inwards with the chiming of a bell, alerting everyone inside of their arrival. Heads looked up, and Yata caught sight of a blonde man in his early twenties behind the bar first, running a cloth over some wine glasses. There were a few guys with various hats, hoods and sunglasses positioned in front of the jukebox on the other side of the room, all with their arms and legs splayed out on the sofas. Well, it was a warm day. Finally, he spotted who he could assume was the girl Anna. She sat next to another fuchsia-haired man who was sleeping, and was practically dwarfed by the dress she was wearing. An old Victorian-English style complete with little shoes and a hat. Her hair was a pure white and she looked straight at him, much to his anxiety. Anna was clearly very young, but he couldn't help but feel like he was being judged, or that she knew things about him that she shouldn't._

_"Hey, everyone!" Totsuka called and got the rest of their attention, "I brought someone along today who wants to join up!"_

_"Is that him?" Izumo nodded towards Yata, who only looked at the floor in response._

_"Yeah, this is Yata, everybody!" he said._

_Before he knew it, all of the people in the room were beginning to gather around him with varying expressions on their faces... all apart from one, who was sitting at the bar where Yata hadn't noticed him before, facing away with a hand resting against his chin._

_"Oh, Fushimi, get _over_ here!" Totsuka called cheerfully and the red head jerked._

_It took the guy a while, but, eventually he turned around and walked over, his black hair obscuring his face for the most part until he was much closer. There was a scowl on his expression as he looked down at Yata, his eyes blurred over and uncaring._

_Yata felt his own widen and his mouth opened a little, letting out a whisper only he could hear._

_"Sa-Saruhiko-san?"_

* * *

That's the fifth chapter done, then c:

I'll do review replies at the end from now on, oh, which leads me to do something I've never really done on this account before: actually physically ask for reviews in a direct way. It doesn't matter; I'll carry on regardless, but there are over thirty of you following this fic and I haven't heard from most of you! Not to mention that it's my most viewed story in terms of chapter:views ratio. Ah, it doesn't matter anyway. You can remain silent if you so wish it. For the people who didn't, however:

**Call Me Tom:** That's 10000000095 points for me! Thank you very much! (can you actually believe how long it took me to sit down and add that I am so disappointed in myself you have no idea).

**JudySaysHi:** It is a bit much, isn't it? Well, I'm writing ahead from now on (which I don't usually do for a number of reasons) to stop that happening again. I am very glad you enjoyed it c:

**Redthorn13:** This is soon, right? GREAT! And don't slap yourself D: Don't worry about it; the next update is a week from today~~~


	6. Chapter 6

_*surfs in on a wave*_

_Ahahahah just joking I can't even surf_

_So, how late is this? Idk, I lose track of time with this and my other fic. My main two followers of LT are my gorgeous friends Kat and Alex, so I talk to them about what happens anyway, and it's like I've already posted the chapters? Eh, well it looks like I didn't, so this is awkward._

_Well, it's here now._

_**Call Me Tom:** I didn't really think of a playlist when writing... but it was the usual rounds of Kagamine Len, Homestuck soundtrack and SHINee playing while I was writing. Interpret how you will~ I'm thinking of posting a little bonus chapter of Rikio and Tatara's escapades during that bar scene... and don't worry about the short review! :0_

_**Windschild8178:** It's very much Ok to be a critical reader! I don't mind at all, and I love what advice you've given. I'm going back and adding dates to each flashback and 'current' scene (partly for my own reference as well) to help, but, for the time being, I'll just say that the flashbacks are almost all in order - save for a couple. All regular writing is in chronological order._

_**jasdevi's secret sissy:** :) *I love jasdevi so much omg*_

_**ClassicDesires:** You are wonderful, darling 3_

* * *

_**Living Twice, Chapter Six**_

* * *

_Even though it's not much, I dedicate this chapter to my Great Aunt Pam; her funeral was today. She inspired me to write from a very young age, and gave me tips I take to heart and make sure I use to this day. I miss you already._

* * *

The next thing she knew, Misaki was on a poorly-padded and metal framed chair that hugged the wall, and Saruhiko was pratically on her lap as he set his phone to full brightness. It didn't work very well as a makeshift torch compared to the lights on the dancefloor (except that was hardly the place to be examining wounds).

She winced when she saw his expression; it hinted to her that there was probably a large amount of blood on her face. Trying not to panic, her boyfriend attempted to dab gently at the gash to clean it as best he could.

"You must have felt something, Misaki-chan" he sounded exasperated with worry, "when do you think you did it?"

"I must have caught it on something on the way in..." it was the easiest way to lie - act like she was just as confused and concerned as he was.

Saruhiko growled in what was probably helplessness. "There's barely any light here, so let me just ca-"

"Fushimi-kun," a deep voice sounded from somewhere in front of her, but her view happened to be blocked by a certain lover's face. That was, until it vanished to turn round and look and the person who had approached.

"Oh, captain," he sounded relived (despite the drop of emotion in talking to authority).

"I saw you and your young lady leave the dance floor rather quickly... is there any problem?"

"Misaki-chan cut her face on something. I can't tell how much blood there is, but... I think it's a little more than just a scrape."

There was silence (apart from the loud and never-ending music) and the red head desperately wanted to see what was happening between him and this person that didn't sound like a stranger. A few seconds later, her wish was granted and Saruhiko was pulled aside.

She was now face to face with a taller, older man. Frameless glasses sat infront of his dark eyes and his skin was terribly pale, even in this light. His face held an unreadable emotion, and Misaki felt uncomfortable about the way his jaw was set. She had to put in more than a little effort not to sqeak with surprise.

Of course she knew him. Munakata Reisi, captain of the city's police and special crime investigation force, Scepter 4. HOMRA's rival, they were; constantly looking for ways to get Mikoto's gang arrested even though they had a lack of solid evidence. One of Yata's jobs was to make sure that they didn't get that evidence.

So... Saruhiko... worked for these guys now?

What was she supposed to think of that?

"The wound is not minor," the captain observed without a change in tone, "but it is not major enough that it cannot be dealt with by ourselves. Fushimi-kun, please find an fetch Awashima-kun. She has a first-aid kit with her."

"...Yes, sir," he disappeared, and Reisi did not take his eyes of Misaki even for a second.

When he was out of (the very small) earshot, Scepter 4's leader spoke again.

"I won't waste time on this. A strain recently came into our possesion under custody."

Misaki narrowed her eyes, confused, "ummm, ok?"

"During her questioning, she informed myself and Awashima Seri-kun of the actions she is to be held accounted for against various persons."

"...Wait - are yo-"

"Including you, Yata Misaki-kun."

Her reply to something like this was always going to be a well-practised 'what do you mean?', but something about the unexpected and particularly overwhelming timing of it betrayed her through her widened eyes.

"Heh," he gave something that sounded like a laugh, "I though so." Reisi was smirking a little from being correct. "I am fully aware of your situation. Well, apart from some smaller details. And, no, Fushimi-kun is not; his branch of Scepter 4 is rarely involved in Awashima-kun's strain department unless there is a large mission. I oversee all branches, and that is how I know."

The realisation and dread that she knew she could do nothing about this, and she stubbornly refused to take her gaze away from him, determined to turn the conversation because she_ knew_ that this man was holding all the cards and could shatter her relationship with Saruhiko just by uttering a few words.

"...So yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?"

"Naturally, our science department is very interested about your case despite the anonymity of it."

"Anonymity?"

"I made the desicion to keep your identity out from the interview report we released to other branches, mostly just on the grounds of Fushimi-kun. Everyone in Scepter 4 is aware of your affilation with HOMRA, and also the rivalry held between him and your male self. Therefore, it is in our best interest not to tell him the true identity of his lover, so be it that we do not lose one of our strongest fighters. You know how mentally unstable he is, do you not?"

She slowly shook her head no, but the captain didn't give her a chance to think further about anything before he carried on.

"We cannot predict how he will take your news, so we have also gone to lengths to keep any information about the strain we interviewed from him, as well."

"You said before... what's a strain?"

He adjusted his glasses, "that is classified."

"But if this 'strain' is a reason behind my curse, I have a fucking right to know! Ow," she winced as pain shot through her cheek, "shit, that hurt."

Reisi raised an eyebrow (probably from her language use, and making a mental note that her personality when not around Fushimi was exactly the same) and dodged her statement with a question.

"We did want to conduct further research before actually beginning to track you down, but I discovered that Fushimi-kun wanted to take you out somewhere. Awashima and myself seized the opportunity to have you here and finally meet you, but the injury you have on your face is... unplanned. How did you get it?"

"...Fushimi punched Yata. Earlier today."

"What do mean 'Yata'? Yourself?"

"Well, yeah, I mean me. Like, I'm 'Misaki' right now."

"...I see." It was then that he finally turned away and Misaki visibly relaxed, breath she was holding in escaping in a pained sigh.

"Fushimi-kun is returning; you can be assured that I'll speak to you like this again soon, Misaki-kun."

"But... ho-?"

"Sir," a feminine voice interrupted them, and Misaki looked up to see a saluting woman standing next to Saruhiko. She was a little breathless, yet composed, but also dressed more for the venue than the two males were. But, as Scepter 4's second-in-command, even in a place like this, the red head had expected her to be wearing a dress that was less revealing. Her lips were a shade of red so bright they could only be achieved by artificial means, and her eyelashings were too long to be real.

"I hope that Fushimi-kun has explained why we needed the first-aid kit," Reisi adjusted his glasses again, "and I've already assured Misaki-kun that she doesn't need to go to hospital for her wound."

"Misaki-kun?" surprise she couldn't help flashed across Awashima's expression, but Saruhiko thankfully didn't catch it. The blonde woman opened the box she had been carrying and knelt down in front of her. Her hands fumbled for a second until she found what she wanted, and Misaki wasn't sure what to do when she noticed how Awashima was looking hard at her face. Probably trying to see past the female features and at the 'real' Yata; the Yata that she had given chase to down the street for arguing with some other Scepter 4 men.

This was uncomfortable and weird and disturbing because Misaki was a part of Yata that shouldn't ever being involved with this woman and _no_ she didn't like this.

_Please, just leave me alone to be with Clumps-kun._

"So you're..." if Misaki had only barely heard it, the others wouldn't have at all. As if it wasn't obvious that Awashima had worked it out almost instantly.

And, after allowing a moment of obvious curiosity of staring and frowning on Misaki could see, her entire aura shifted back to how the red head had wished it had been from the start - composed and completely oblivious.

"The captain is right," was what she eventually came out with, "I can clean it up here."

"That's great! Thank you so much for helping me," Misaki saw her flinch at her voice.

"...Not a problem."

"How are you feeling now, Misaki-chan?" Saruhiko got close to her as soon as Scepter 4's lieutenant finished and stood up. Her held her face and ran his thumbs down her cheeks as he looked with worry at the bandaged gash. He was being very careful not to touch it.

"I'm fine," she wanted very much to reply softly, but that was something that the music wouldn't allow.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked.

"No," she answered firmly, "we've only had a little while here; it's not fair on you, Clumps-kun."

"Well, I'm not taking you on the dance floor again," he nodded goodbye to his higher-ups and the red head only vaguely processed that Awashima and Reisi were leaving, "we don't want it opening up again. Here - do you want something to... what?"

"What?"

He frowned, "looks like I must have left our drinks somewhere. Wait here, Misaki-chan; I'll go and look for them."

Saruhiko kissed her lips before he pulled away, and she watched him fade into the crowd. It wasn't long until she completely lost sight of him; instead, she found herself looking at a flamboyant and bright coloured poncho.

Its wearer caught sight of her, grinning sheepishly as he tried to turn away and run, but she glowered at him and signaled for him to approach.

"Totsuka-san," she found it difficult to keep her voice level (was it from pain or annoyance?), "what are you doing here?"

"...Oh... you see, Rikio-san and I were super worried about you, so we though we'd come to make sure you were ok..."

"Rikio-san, too? You guys didn't think I could deal with a date with Clumps-kun like I have been for two years? Just because I hurt my face? Ugh. Never mind about that. I have to tell you something else because there's not much time before he gets back... you saw me with Scepter 4, right?"

"Yeah, I did! What was with tha-"

"Clumps-kun works for them now; they're head of security at this club and everything!"

"You're telling me then that Fushimi ditched HOMRA for_ them_?"

"I know! But that's no the point - look - Totsuka-san, Reisi and Awashima _know._ Like, about me and my curse."

"_What_? Do they know how it happened?"

"Reisi was all up in my face the whole time. Awashima was freaking out but playing it cool... and they didn't really say much in detail. But that captain did mention something about a 'strain'."

"Like... the things you drain pasta with?"

"Um, no, I don't think so. They did say though that they'll find me again and I think they might want to help me, and I'm not too sure how I feel about that."

"In what way?"

"Loads of ways. The fact that it's Scepter 4 for a start, and then there's how Reisi mentioned how their fucking science department is curious - I don't want them poking and prodding me, do I? And what if I do end up getting rid of this curse? We still have the problem of Clumps-kun."

Totsuka seemed to have a problem following up a reply to that, and he fiddled with his hat absently.

"Don't worry too much," he replied eventually, beaming, "we'll find a way to sort this awful mess out - six years for you is enough, don't you think? Oh - I better leave," he added suddenly, "Fushimi's coming back and we're not supposed to know each other, remember?"

Misaki smiled at him before he left, and it sent pain shooting through her cheek.

* * *

"Don't you find it even just a teeny, tiny bit odd that Fushimi made no connection whatsoever with the cut on your face?" Totsuka was frowning as he opened a can of cola. It hissed, almost like it was emphasizing the point.

Yata shrugged and bit into his sandwich, "not really," he said through a mouthful, "although I can understand completely where you're coming from."

"Same here," Kamamoto was picking at a packet of crisps, and the red head made a casual observation of how much slimmer the blonde man was getting. Summer would be in full swing soon. "But we have already established that Fushimi realises no connection between Misaki-chan and Yata-san, although that might not be true. He could have his suspicions and just be managing to keep any sign of it away from Misaki-chan."

"Well if he does, he's doing a really good job of pretending he doesn't. And that's kind of a far fetched idea any way; he wouldn't have punched Yata-san if he had had an idea as to who he really is," Totsuka added.

"So we've come to the conclusion then that the only thing between me and relationship hell is Reisi keeping his fucking mouth shut," Yata grumbled, "and there isn't a thing we can do about it either way. No matter how different I make Misaki act from Yata, it's ultimately up to him and Awashima if Clumps-kun learns about me or not."

"But you told us what he said to you," the youngest of the three made an attempt to comfort him, "Scepter 4 want to keep Fushimi mentally stable, and the only way that can do that is if they don't tell him, right? So you don't have to worry!"

"Yeah, but what did he even mean by that? Does that mean then that could be hiding something important from Misaki, then? That's beyond unfair..."

Kamamoto couldn't help grinning, "Yata-san, hypocritical, much?"

"Oh, you know what I mean!"

"I'm sure he'd tell you if it was something that could affect you directly; as in, whatever it is hasn't made a difference, so I wouldn't think much of it," the larger blonde replied.

"I guess you're making sense... Totsuka-san, pass me a sausage roll."

"Here."

The red head swallowed a bit and sighed, "I think I'm worrying about this too much."

"You have every right to worry," Kamamoto's voice became even more serious, "the main point now, Yata-san, is whether you think breaking your curse or keeping your identity safe is more important."

He opened his mouth to reply, but instead doubled over and almost rolled completely off of the sofa.

"Oh!" Tostuka glanced first out the window, and then at the clock on the wall, "it's sunset! Shit, Yata-san, sorry."

"It's not like you could have... done anything to stop it... anyway."

"Just lie down," somehow, Kamamoto had already managed to make it to the kitchen and back, bringing a damp tea towel with him.

He could only respond with a pained gasp as he rested his head on the cushion. Tears formed in his eyes and his fingers latched on to the cloth of the loveseat.

"Guys... I just hate this so fucking much," his teeth were gritted.

"It's alright," Totsuka gently rubbed his closest arm, "it'll be over really soon. Then, you can go to the festival with Fushimi! We have your Yukata out in the hallway hanging up!"

"ok, ok ok," was all he he could put together in his brain to say, over and over again. His eyes had closed and probably wouldn't open again until after his change had finished.

Once again, as per usual, Totsuka and Kamamoto could do nothing. They just had to sit and wait with him with words of comfort, only able to imagine how extreme the pain must be.

* * *

_"What does it matter to me?" Fushimi's eyebrows were raised despite his obvious uninterest, "he's just a new member, it makes no difference."_

_For a few seconds, Yata was taken aback, wondering how he could look at his face and not see the girl he had had dinner with only a few days before. Perhaps the difference was more than just a little subtle... it might be because Yata always saw his face as his face no matter what sex he was that he always noticed._

_He bit his lip, forcing himself to avoid eye contact. Fushimi had only seen Misaki before, but still he was certain that it was possible to make a connection._

_Appearances were hard to change, but he supposed he could just try to avoid him, or act more blunt around him, maybe... if his acting skills were decent enough then it was possible. He couldn't afford to ruin it before they'd even had their first da-_

_...Was he just about to think 'date'?_

_He flushed and hoped it wasn't noticable._

_Oh, God, it really was a date, wasn't it?_

_"Uh... Yata-san?" Totsuka tapped him lightly on the shoulder, "you ok?"_

_"Fine," he replied as he narrowed his eyes and forced out a scowl, "but I don't see what this guy's problem is with me."_

_"Oh, just ignore him; he's like that to everybody."_

_"Tch, whatever; welcome to HOMRA and all that," Fushimi grumbled and returned to his seat, hands shoved in his hoodie's pockets._

* * *

Thankfully, it had stopped raining before the festival had begun.

Misaki smiled a small smile as she stepped outside, breathing in the mingling scents of freshness from the wet ground and the settling-in evening. The sun had almost finished drawing down behind the trees and the long shadow her body cast on the driveway was going to vanish soon. At current, the neighbourhood was quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the television coming through the open window of the next house and the distant rumble of the motorway across the park and farm beyond. Some birds of a species the red head didn't quite remember sung to each other from a tree nearby, and she clung to her purse with a loose grip as Kamamoto opened the door to his car for her.

"We'll drive you as close to your usual bus stop as we can without being seen with you," Rikio told her, putting on his seat belt with a click and starting up the engine. Totsuka had pounced on the controls for the radio already and was flicking through the channels at an irritatingly fast speed to find the one he wanted.

"Thanks a lot," unfortunately, Misaki didn't share the two blondes' music taste, but she had her iPod as a substitute to listen to something she liked. Her songs were on shuffle before the car had even turned onto the road.

The journey wouldn't have been much longer if she had walked; there were lots of small and irritating traffic jams in the worst possible places (which meant the engine was off and the earphones combined with her music no longer worked as an effective tool to block out the monstrosity coming through the Subaru's speakers).

They dropped her off on the next street over from where she would meet Saruhiko, and, as she got out the car and fiddled for the last time with the high ponytail in her hair, Totsuka slipped some money into her hand.

"'It's from Rikio-san and I," he grinned and said softly, "think of it as an early birthday present, ok, Misaki-chan?"

She hugged him and replied with a quiet 'thank you' before waving goodbye as he got back in the car. Kamamoto steered the wheel to the right and accelerated. The sounds the car made drew into the distance, and, just like that, they were gone.

Misaki turned the corner and walked down, her mind surprisingly blank about such a surprising evening.

He had her in her arms before she even realised he was in front of her.

Saruhiko buried his face in her hair in a familiar way that somehow didn't feel familiar and held her tight, gathering clumps of her yukata in his hands as he pulled themselves closer together.

"Misaki," he breathed out her name, and she was about to reply in the same fashion when she noticed how he dropped the honorific.

"Clumps-kun...?" the red head gently pushed his head away, remaining in his arms but now she could see his face. Through the strangely numb sounds of bustling cars and lorries, she was able to make out a low and rough choking noise.

Fushimi Saruhiko was crying.

Misaki squeezed his hand, feeling how sweaty his palms were; he must have been waiting all this time with his fists clenched, and she ran her fingertips over small wounds where his nails had broken into the skin.

She took a deep breath. "What's wrong?"

His breaths were different; uneven and shaking, and the volume of it altered itself drastically in the space of just a few seconds. "My... it's my step-dad... he... I," his voice caught and he gave a weak cough.

"Shhh," she let him rest his head on her right shoulder and put her free hand on the back of his neck. He wasn't fidgeting. His clothes looked like they were put together perfectly but lacked something.

"It's ok; you don't have to say everything all at once."

_All little details._

Saruhiko drew in a breath of even air (it was all she could seem to hear at the moment, their breathing); crisp and sharp. He squeezed her a little tighter for a second.

"He... a signal at a level crossing wasn't working properly... and his car, it spun and spun and flipped and oh my God Misaki why did this have to happen he was the most wonderful father in the world and now he can't even meet you and see how wonderful you are because this is just so sudden just _fuck_ I can barely think straight_ fuck_ this has probably ruined the evening already and everything so I just-"

"Calm down, please, Saruhiko. It'll be alright."

"But it's so sudden-"

"Things like this are always sudden."

Silence fell and she began to notice a light rain; looking up, she saw a thin cloud that must not have been heavy enough to open up earlier. It gave a misty quality to the air and everything around them a hazy feel, cooling their surroundings right down. It wasn't strong enough to push them under the shelter, but they decided to anyway.

Saruhiko sat down and pulled her onto his lap, absently sliding his hands through the gaps between her fingers.

Misaki wasn't at all sure what to say, afraid she'll make it worse. If she said nothing, it would sound like she didn't really care, and the same would probably happen if she suggested for them only to focus on the festival. Maybe she could ask him questions about it, but what if that just made him feel worse?

She felt his breath on her neck.

"What do you want to talk about while we wait?" she whispered her question.

When Saruhiko didn't reply she felt herself tense up and draw in a breath a little too sharply, but he calmed her again with a kiss on her hairline.

"...How annoying the people are at work."

They both laughed, but one was a little louder than the other.

It was another seven and a half minutes before the bus came this time.

* * *

_Yay I'm done woooooo_


End file.
